


Before You Go

by WhyDoIWrite



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Comes with a playlist, Drunk Dialing, Engagement, Epilogue, F/F, Gay girl in love with her straight best friend, Hawaii, Hotlanta, It’s how they communicate, Kellex Flashback, Lesbians, NWSL, New Year's Eve, Prologue, Sleepovers, Sometimes when I’m drunk..., Songs from the heart, Straight girl in love with her gay best friend, The Trade, Your boyfriend is an asshole, bffs turned lovers, heartbreak with a happy ending, love letter, proposal, public declaration of love... basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: 5+15 times Emily and Lindsey couldn’t communicate with each other so they just added songs to their Spotify playlists instead, and the 1 time Lindsey wrote Emily a (love) letter for all the world to see.plus...A prologue and an extra long epilogue.Maybe the eyes aren’t the window to the soul.  Maybe the songs someone can’t take off of repeat are.
Relationships: Alex Morgan/Kelley O'Hara, Kelley O'Hara/Kelley's Partner, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 104
Kudos: 406





	1. Friends Don’t (Prologue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The logical part of Emily’s brain keeps reminding her that she and Lindsey are just friends, but if that’s the case, why does Lindsey keep (purposefully) tugging at her heart strings?

_Friends don't call you in the middle of the night  
_ _Couldn't even tell you why  
_ _They just felt like saying "hi"_

_Friends don't stand around, playing with their keys_  
_Finding reasons not to leave_  
_Trying to hide the chemistry_  
_Drive a little too slow, take the long way home_  
_Get a little too close_  
_We do, but friends don't._

_I keep telling myself this might be nothing_  
_But one look in your eyes and, God, there's something_  
_You can lie to me and say you don't_  
_But I know you do, and I love you too_

They’re just friends.Emily has to remind herself of this. Over and over.And then over again.Because it’s hard to remember when Lindsey’s head is resting in her lap.When she’s running her fingers through Lindsey’s hair.When it’s as relaxing to Emily as it is to Lindsey.As comforting.As familiar and normal and tender.

Except it’s _not_.Not really.Emily is always either still on edge around Lindsey, or she’s realizing she’s somehow, inexplicably, relaxed and has to go right back to being on edge.Because in these moments, which aren’t exactly few and far between anymore, every fiber of Emily’s being is trying to convince her that Lindsey wants what Emily wants. 

But every brain cell she still has is asking the question, “ _What about your childhood makes you think it’s healthy, normal even, to long for a woman who will never love you the same way you love her? Especially when, theoretically at least, there’s some woman out there who wouldactually love you_.”

_Logically_ , Emily knows she deserves someone who will love her back. 

_Illogically_ , she thinks she might could just live in this painful limbo forever if it means Lindsey is cuddled up next to her. 

* * *

It used to be more tolerable. It used to be only after games, when they could get away with drifting off to sleepon the couch because they didn’t have training the following day.It was a nice way to unwind; decompressing was necessary even after a win. And then when one of them (Lindsey) would wake up in a sleepy haze in the middle of the night, it was only natural for them to make their way to the bed (because Lindsey could easily scoop a sleepy Sonnett up in her arms) instead of one of them driving back home, and fall asleep in a more comfortable spot. Together.

But then it became Friday’s when they were in town. And Sundays.And sometimes in the middle of the week just because. 

It’s torture for Sonnett. But the best kind of torture, she thinks. 

But then Lindsey goes and does _things_.

Like on nights they’re not spending together, Lindsey willsometimes call Emily. For no discernible reason. The one time Sonny asked her why - not because she minded, just out of curiosity, Lindsey had simply responded that she wanted to hear Sonny’s voice. That was good enough for Emily.So falling asleep on the phone together sometimes became their thing, too. 

There are all the times that Lindsey comes over, just for dinner, not to stay. But then she stays, searching for an excuse to _linger_ , almost.Or so it seems to Emily.

To catch a TV show that she wouldn’t make it home in time to see if she left right then - so what’s another hour?

To paint her nails because it was a tad bit hard to do her right hand - and why not just let Emily, who could do it perfectly, finish up for her?

For dessert - because does it really count if it’s no sugar added coconut milk ice cream?

And those nights, when Lindsey finally leaves (not that Emily wants her to), she takes her time, stalling by the door. Searching for her keys.On the table, the counter, the coffee table in the living room, the bench next to Emily’s front door. Lindsey knows where they are. Emily knows it’s just a game. They go round and round, playing along, but not breaking the unspoken rule. This isn’t going anywhere. No matter how much Emily wants it to. No matter how much Lindsey is afraid she wants it to.

Sometimes, the lingering and stalling grates on Emily, filling her with the kind of rage she usually reserves for officials who make bad calls on the field. Somehow, she keeps it all bottled up when it comes to Lindsey though. It’s almost indescribable, how frustrated it can make her, the almost daring movement of Lindsey’s hand brushing hers, or resting on Emily’s thigh.Those accidental touches, the ones that send a chill through Emily, kill her.Because she knows - _she knows_ \- that they shouldn’t mean anything. They don’t mean anything. But they mean _everything_.

Other times, Emily is able to appreciate every second she gets with Lindsey, as if it will never, can never, be enough.Breathing in the scent of Lindsey’s shampoo, so close to see the tiny laugh lines around her eyes.

* * *

Lindsey’s not the only one to blame for this though.Anytime Lindsey wants to spend time with Emily, Emily is more than ready to drop whatever it is she is doing for Lindsey.Doesn’t matter if Emily is about to go grocery shopping, or about to go hang out with a friend.Doesn’t matter if Lindsey’s asking her to grab breakfast or if all Lindsey wants to is come over and not do anything at all. The result is always the same: Emily rearranges her day to make time for the person who always puts a smile on her face.Because the smile that woman can put on her face is worth it.

There are the practices where Emily is too distracted to function. All it takes is hearing Lindsey’s name, called out by a coach or a teammate, and it pricks Emily’s ears up.But it doesn’t lead to an increased alterness.She’ll hear Tobin call out as she’s about to pass the ball, and Emily will literally forget how to defend for a split second.She’s in awe of Lindsey.They way she moves on and off the field - with or without the ball.In awe of how she flexes, showing the cuts running down her thigh as she plants.In awe of the dip in her shoulders where her deltoid meets the supraspinatus. 

There are the times, in a group, where Emily hears someone say Lindsey’s name, and the smile that forms on her own face is automatic, unable to be wiped off. _Why_?It’s not like they’re talking to Emily.But they are talking about _her_. _She_ is all that matters.

There are the times that Lindsey goes down on the field and Emily’s heart sinks. Her throat closes. Her breath stops. She freezes until she sees Lindsey get up. Lindsey getting injured scares Emily far more than the though of herself getting injured ever has.

* * *

Emily digs her fingertips in just a little, giving Lindsey a bit of a scalp massage tonight, she breaks the silence. Lindsey lets out a satisfied hum. Emily loves hearing that sound.   


Lindsey and Russell are broken up. Again. And maybe Emily is crazy, it’s not like she’s been keeping track, but this time, the breakup seems to have lasted longer. Maybe it gives her a false sense of bravado. Something alcohol has never been able to give her. “Do you remember after the 2017 final?” she asks, as if either of them could forget. 

“We agreed to never bring that up again,” Lindsey says, voice quiet, steadiness questionable. 

* * *

They had both been buzzing - from the victory and the alcohol.Not quite drunk.But drunk enough that they could wander from bar to bar in downtown Orlando, arms linked together, and not really care what anyone saw, or thought.Because truthfully, it wasn’t a whole lot different than how they were with each other all time anyway.Touchy.Too much chemistry to hide it. 

Lindsey had pulled at Emily’s arm, and they ducked into a dark ally beside the next bar they were headed to.She tugged too hard, or maybe Emily was too uncoordinated with a few beers in her.Either way, Emily ended up pressed against the hard, rough brick of the building. And Lindsey ended up pressed against Emily.How _that_ happened seemed a little more suspicious. 

Lindsey’s hand had left the crook of Emily’s arm and traveled down until their fingers were intertwined.Still not exceptionally odd for them.If you could overlook their bodies pressed against each other, that is.Emily couldn’t overlook that, couldn’t overlook how Lindsey’s leg had slotted perfectly in between hers as if they had practiced it a hundred times.Emily’s heart pounded in her ears as blood rushed to her head.The pressure was uncomfortable.But she saw Lindsey’s eyes suddenly dart to her lips.And the way Lindsey flicked her tongue against her bottom lip for just a split second before she bit down on that same lip enveloped all of Emily’s senses, pushing the throbbing pressure in her head far away from where they were currently. 

But Emily waited.Waited until Lindsey leaned in, just enough.Just enough that her free hand reached up, fingertips pressing into Emily’s abs as she stopped herself from leaning too far.And only then did Emily move off the wall just enough to brush her own lips against Lindsey’s. 

Emily panicked momentarily, not because her heart seemed stuck in her chest - that seemed like a perfectly normal occurrence, given the circumstances - but because she realized her lips were probably chapped from the cold weather they had been experiencing in Portland. She had imagined a first kiss with Lindsey more times than she wanted to admit, and she wanted it to be perfect and now it wasn’t. She had forgotten to put chapstick on.Hadn’t planned to make out with any girls - in dark alleyways or otherwise - that night.And yet, there she was, and when she thought about it, Lindsey didn’t seem bothered by her lips at all.In fact, the way she was hungrily kissing Emily, it seemed she didn’t even notice.So Emily let that thought be pushed out of her head too. 

She let her lips move in sync with Lindsey’s, not trying to gain the upper hand, like she normally would, and not too gently, because she had wanted this. _So_ bad.Too bad to be gentle. 

But Lindsey finally pulled away, face flushed, and their eyes met.Maybe Emily couldn’t read everything Lindsey’s eyes were saying, but she could read enough.She could read enough to know that there was something there.As much as Emily had tried to convince herself that this would never be anything other than a platonic friendship, there was just something different that night. 

“I love y-“ Lindsey had started to say, the words forming on her tongue and leaving her lips in the same instant.But before she could even get three words out, she stopped, as if time had slowed down and she realized what she has started to say. 

And maybe that was the most heartbreaking moment of all for Emily.The moment she was so close to the world being her oyster.So close she could taste it, the faint remnants of alcohol mixed with Lindsey’s cucumber chapstick.So close she could feel it, the pounding in her chest and the drop in her gut.Only to have it ripped away as Lindsey, who had lost herself, came back down to Earth.Maybe if Emily had been able to catch her on the way back down, things would have been different.Maybe if Emily had pulled her back from where she had been lost, instead of Lindsey pulling herself back into control, things would have been different then.

* * *

Maybe things would be different now.

But now, Lindsey is still lying in Emily’s lap, looking up at here with the most stunning grey-green eyes, pleading. Pleading for Emily to drop it, to forget it, as they had agreed to years ago.But there’s also a different kind of pleading in Lindsey’s eyes too. Emily is all but certain of it. And she doesn’t know what to do about it.  


So Emily drops it. What’s the point of dredging up the past? Because friends _don’t_ kiss friends. Even when eyes are begging for it. Even when lips are perfectly, barely parted. Even when chins are tipped up just right. Friends. Don’t. Kiss. Friends. 


	2. Rumor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose tries to talk some sense into both of them after the Utah game. It mostly falls on deaf ears. You can lead a horse to water, but...

_Well I can shut ‘em down,  
_ _tell ‘em all they’re crazy,  
_ _I can do whatever you want me to do baby.  
Or_ _you could lay one on me right now  
_ _We could really give ‘em something to talk about.  
_ _  
There’s a rumor going ‘round about me and you,  
_ _Stirring up our little town the last week or two.  
_ _So tell me why we even try to deny this feeling,  
_ _I feel it, don’t you feel it too?_  
 _There’s a rumor goin’ ‘round and ‘round and ‘round._  
 _What d’ya say we make it true?  
_ _W_ _e make it true._

“But why, Rosie? Why would she _do_ that?”

Rose looks at Emily for a full minute, dumbfounded, before she responds. “Oh Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Em. You _cannot_ be this dense!”

Emily’s mouth drops open. Rose apologizes for using the Lord’s name in vain. She does _not_ apologize for calling Emily dense. Because seriously, when it comes to Lindsey, Rose thinks Emily is dense with a capital D.

Maybe Emily knows the answer to her own question, deep down. Or maybe she’s just hopeful, but fears she could be wrong so she needs someone else to say it. Rose could be that someone for her. Rose watched _that_ game. She can provide the perspective of a neutral observer.

“She ran to your defense. _Ran,_ Sonny, when Amy went off on you. She was not about to let Amy get in your face like that. She had your back, Em.”

And maybe that’s all it was – Lindsey having her back. Like she would for any other teammate. Like Tobin did for Emily, too, when she shoved Amy _and_ Vero. She ran into the scrum, and that didn’t mean a damn thing. 

“She’s a good teammate,” Emily says, her voice remaining neutral.

“She’s in love with you, dumbass,” Rose replies, annoyed. And she throws her empty coffee cup at Emily’s head. It hits the target and bounces off onto the floor. Emily picks it up and tosses it in the waste bin.

“You think?” Emily asks, still needing reassurance. Always needing reassurance.

“She squeezed your hip. I used to think you were the one initiating all the touchiness. I was wrong. What was the reason for her touching you, with all those cameras everywhere, with all those people everywhere, if not because she’s in love with you and wanted you to know? Or because she couldn’t help it. She wanted you to know it was ok, it was her way of telling you that she’s got it. She’s got you. She fucking pushed fucking Amy Rodriguez off of a dead ball. Minutes after the fact. ARod’s a goddamn legend. That sure as shit isn’t just being a good teammate. And then she literally taunted the ref while he carded her for it. Tell me, Em, why the fuck was she so fired up?” The question is rhetorical. Emily know this. “Because she loves you. Because she’s been in love with you.”

“Why are you cursing so much?” Emily asks, changing the subject. 

“Because you two are so damn annoying. Like why can’t one of you just grow a pair and do something about it? You’re my best friends, and I don’t want anything to go wrong between you, obviously, because I don’t want to ever have to choose between you, but how can you be head over heels for someone for so long and just like, not say it?”

Emily doesn’t have an answer for that. Not a good one. She has a lot of excuses though.

Lindsey is just a touchy person. It’s her love language. It’s how she expresses herself, and she can be touchy without it meaning anything more than what it is at face value.

Lindsey is her teammate, for God’s sakes. Soccer is the most important thing in their lives. Well, in Lindsey’s life at least. Emily would throw it away tomorrow if she could be with Lindsey instead of being a professional soccer player.

Lindsey is straight. She may be single right now, but she is straight. As far as Emily knows. There was that kiss, a way long time ago, but it’s just what straight girls do when they’re drunk sometimes. There was the almost “I love you,” but friends tell friends that they love them. All the time. They usually don’t stop mid-sentence, but... well Lindsey is straight.

And even if she’s not – and that’s a big if – their friendship is too important to potentially fuck it up by one of them admitting their feelings to the other.

But with every passing day, Emily is beginning to wonder if admitting her feelings, aloud, to Lindsey really would fuck things up, or if maybe it would just lead to them fucking. 

Too bad she’s too much of a chickenshit to find out.

Rose breaks her train of thought. “You’ve seen social media, right? Like your fans’ takes on it?” Emily, in fact, has not seen anything on social media, because she’s deleted her Twitter and Insta. For now. Mainly because she’s super embarrassed she took Christen and Amy down like that, but also because she got a red, and also because in the next game, without her, the Thorns lost 6-0. It’s all too humiliating to deal with the inevitable tags and notifications she would be getting. Emily loves a good meme, wants to be a damn meme, but not from this cursed incident.

She shakes her head.

”Ooohhhh,” Rose says, shocked. “Wanna see?” she asks, turning her laptop towards Emily.

Emily shakes her head again. “Can you just, like, summarize?”

“Oh, ok. Yeah. So basically the whole of WoSo Twitter and Insta think you two are a couple. Like I said, they think Lindsey was defending you because she loves you, and they think she broke up with Russell for you.”

”Why would they think _that_?”

”Well...” Rose hesitates, wondering if she should have left that part out. Too late now. “He posted some shit. About you.”

”Lemme see.”

”I don’t know where it is anymore,” Rose lies. 

”Rosie, let me see,” Emily insists, scooting next to Rose so she can see her laptop. Rose just sits there dumbly. “Insta or Twitter?” Emily asks, and Rose shrugs. Whatever. She doesn’t need Rose. She can find it without her. She types Russell’s name into the search bar. _Oh. Ooooohhhh_. “This was after that game?” Emily wants to know.

”Yep. Can you say insecure much?”

Emily nods. _He’s definitely insecure all right_ , she thinks. Kind of ridiculous. For a grown ass man. Especially when he has nothing to be jealous of. Or... maybe he does...

”How did you find all this?” Emily demands to know.

”Oh that’s easy. Just type in your names. See?” she tilts her laptop towards Emily again. “Or type in Soran. That’s your ship name. Sometimes they use an asterisks because they don't want you to find it, but if you're really looking, you can find anything." 

_What the actual fuck_? Emily wonders. _Rose is insane._ _How and why does she even know this stuff?_

Lindsey pops into the room - her room - that she’s sharing with Rose. “Oh, heeeyyyy, Linds,” Rose says awkwardly, trying to sound casual. 

”What are you looking at?” Lindsey wants to know. 

Rose slams her laptop shut. 

”Nothing,” she lies.

”Porn,” Emily chimes in.

Lindsey looks back and forth between the two, knowing not to believe either. Although the though of Emily and Rose watching porn together, is, well, it’s a... thought...

Emily gets up and says bye to both of them, her eyes downcast and her voice shy as she passes Lindsey. Things haven’t been the same between them since the incident. Maybe Lindsey regrets it, so publicly stepping up to defend Emily. She has a hot temper, for sure, but maybe she realizes now she shouldn’t have let herself get so upset for the whole world to see. Maybe Lindsey knows what the anonymous people on the internet are saying about her and Emily. Maybe it makes her uncomfortable, that people think that about her. Especially since Lindsey’s… straight. It makes Emily uncomfortable, and Emily’s gay, so she can absolutely imagine how it would make Lindsey feel. 

Then again, if everybody else – from their best friend to total strangers on the internet - sees it, what Emily has thought she’s seen for a couple of years, maybe, just maybe, she’s not crazy after all. The problem is, if Lindsey wanted this to be something, Lindsey could just kiss her. And she hasn’t, not since that night, despite having countless opportunities. 

Of course... Emily could kiss her, too. That option exists. 

_Maybe the next time Lindsey comes over and we’re alone_ , she tells herself. _Just a peck on the cheek, watch and wait for her reaction. Or next time I’m snuggled into her neck, I could kiss her neck, perhaps her collarbone. Something that she can’t ignore, can’t pass off as just another friendly interaction. There’s plenty of time to figure this out,_ she tells herself.

But for now, Emily decides that the best thing she can do, for both of them, is to avoid social media, and avoid Lindsey, until things cool down. 

If Emily only knew what is going on in that hotel room right now. How much teasing Rose is inflicting on Lindsey. How much Lindsey is blushing. How Lindsey is just sitting there, taking it, because Rose is spot on - about all of it – and there’s nothing Lindsey can say to defend her actions. Or her feelings. The things people are saying on Twitter bother Lindsey, for sure. But she’s starting to think that she’s more bothered by her own inability to do something than she is by random tweets. Or Rose’s teasing.


	3. Conversations in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey can't stand that Emily is different around her, and it makes her think...

_Talk, let's have conversations in the dark,_  
_World is sleeping I'm awake with you, with you._  
_Watch, movies that we've both already seen,_  
_I ain't even looking at the screen, it's true,_  
_I got my eyes on you._  
_And you say that you're not worth it, you get hung up on your flaws,_  
_But in my eyes you are perfect as you are._

Lindsey hates the distance she feels between her and Emily. It's been there since _that_ game. At first, she didn't really notice it, or didn't make the connection, at least. It was obvious when they were with the national team. It was _really_ obvious when they were in Portland. Emily's avoiding Lindsey, and Lindsey doesn't have an explanation for it. 

Not really, at least. Maybe it's her own fault for not being there for Sonny right after it all went down, but Sonny was so mad, and Lindsey couldn't tell if she was mad at herself or mad at Lindsey. And frankly, in the moment, Lindsey was pretty pissed too - at herself for losing her cool, and at Sonny for losing control. 

Lindsey lies there on her couch, staring at the ceiling. The words of her therapist, from years ago, come flooding back. "Anger's just a secondary emotion, Lindsey. You use it to cover something else up. You're mad right now. What are you covering up?"

At the time, she had been mad at the world - at her parents, at Mike, at her coaches. She knew exactly why, but she didn't answer her therapist; she simply stopped going.

But now? Was it...

Shame that she went after ARod?

Feelings of failure because her season wasn't going well? She should have been able to score on Utah.

Disappointment that her best friend had to miss the next game?

Embarrassment because Tobin was absolutely livid afterward? Sure, she defended both of them in the moment, but in the locker room after, it was a different story, and Tobin was far angrier at Lindsey that she was at Emily.

Her true feelings?

So yeah, maybe she avoided Emily, for a minute. But what was Emily's excuse for _still_ avoiding her? And Cait and Ellie. And everybody, basically. _Might as well find out_ , Lindsey thinks, because their season is almost over and she fucking misses Emily's presence more than she's ever missed anyone. She considers sending a text. 

Instead, she calls. She never calls. FaceTimes? Yes. Calls? no. It rings so many times Lindsey thinks Sonnett's actually going to ignore her call. But finally, that scratchy voice that brings her so much comfort comes through the line.

"Linds? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lindsey replies, slightly taken aback. And then she gets braver and cuts to the chase. "Come over." It's not a question. She doesn't even add their typical, "if you want to," which became a mere formality years ago. "Just come over, Dasani."

There's silence on the other end of the line and Lindsey thinks maybe she pushed too far, too soon.

"Yeah, ok." The sense of relief Lindsey feels surprises her. "I'll bring supper. What do you want?"

Lindsey stifles a giggle. She loves when Sonnett calls it supper. It's one of the remnants of her southern upbringing that she's tried particularly hard to bury to fit in. Lindsey wishes she wouldn't. She loves that about her. "You know what I want. But," she rushes to add, "we can get something else. Your choice."

"Thai Bloom is fine. Call it in. See ya in a bit."

Sonnett hangs up without saying bye. Things still aren't ok. But they're getting better. At least she's coming over.

*****

Or... maybe they're not getting better after all.

Sonnett knocks instead of letting herself in like she always does. And she stands in the doorway while Lindsey takes the food from her and sets it on the coffee table, waiting to be invited in. Usually, Sonnett would have her shoes off and be cuddled into a corner of Lindsey's couch before Lindsey even fully realized that Sonny was there. They eat dinner in silence, which Lindsey doesn't particularly mind, except it's awkward silence. Emily is far from her, on the opposite end of the couch, not sitting in the middle where she normally sits so they can share food. And to make matters worse, as soon as Sonnett's done eating, she gets up to leave. 

"Want me to take your trash out?" she asks, standing and stretching. Lindsey gets a little peak of her stomach as her shirt lifts, and she stares, unable to answer. "K. See ya tomorrow then." She turns towards the door, and then spins back around. "Want me to pick you up?" 

It's the first time she's offered since the Utah game. Those offers have been a mere formality for years, too. Most of the time, when Sonnett offered, Lindsey just reflexively murmured "mmhmm." Until that game. Lindsey realized that Sonnett didn't offer to pick her up the day after they got home. And it hurt. More than it ever occurred to Lindsey that it would. She'd been walking to practice for awhile now, and it was fine, but it wasn't the same. "Yes, please."

Something about the way Lindsey says it, deferential and shy, causes Emily to cock her head to the side and furrow her brow, as if it never occurred to her that Lindsey had missed their super short car rides together. 

But more than anything, more than she wants Emily to drive her to training tomorrow, Lindsey wants Sonnett to stay. So she says it, even though she's afraid she's just going to hear "no."

"Son?" she starts timidly, and Emily doesn't look away. "Just stay. I wanna watch White Chicks." She doesn't _really_ want to watch White Chicks, but she is well aware that Emily thinks it's hilarious, and she needs to give Emily a reason to not walk out that door. 

Emily sighs, loudly enough that Lindsey reconsiders trying to keep her in her apartment a little longer. She seems so resistant to it. But she sits down, cuddling into her corner with a blanket, arms across her chest, subconsciously protecting herself where she's most sensitive.

Lindsey cues the movie up and lets it play for a few minutes. But she can't resist messing with Sonnett because Lindsey needs attention. Maybe that's one of the reasons Lindsey was drawn to her early on; Emily's always been more than willing to pay attention to her, however she needs, whenever she wants it. Emily is always looking at her, smiling at her, laughing with her, making her smile, making her laugh, holding her close, building her confidence, protecting her, defending her, appreciating her, taking care of her. Touching her. Loving her. Nobody else does all those things for her. She misses Emily like she's never missed anyone, but it's because she craves Emily's closeness like she's never craved anyone. She puts her feet on Emily's arms. Emily tries to scoot farther away, into the arm of the couch, but really, she has no where to go. Lindsey doesn't back down, and this time, Emily swats her away. But she puts her feet on her friend a third time and Emily turns and looks at her, mouth open. 

She looks like she's about to get mad, yell at Lindsey even, and Lindsey stays still, stretched out, watching her. "What do you need, Linds?" The way she says it isn't harsh, she doesn't sound exasperated like Lindsey thought she would; she sounds like she means it, like she's really asking Lindsey what she needs. 

Lindsey wants to say " _You! I need you, you fucking moron!_ " but she refrains. Because while all the signals are there, they're not **always** there, not consistent. Some days, she would swear that Emily is in love with her. Other days, Emily makes it so very clear that they're just friends. Lindsey is 99% sure those days are just a cover. She may have been inebriated, but she remembers the conversation they had after they won the World Cup. It seems like a lifetime ago. It's barely been 2 months.

* * *

Lindsey was drunk that night. Maybe that's why Emily acted like the conversation never happened. Then again, Emily was drunker, so maybe she doesn't even know that the conversation happened. It was the first time since they had left the States that Lindsey had gotten any quality time with Sonny. Kelley had been monopolizing Emily, wanting to make her first World Cup experience memorable, but that night, Kelley had been so preoccupied with seeing her girlfriend for the first time in forever that she had forgotten all about Sonnett. Rose was trashed; Sam was taking care of her. They ended up in the same hotel room, in the same bed even though no one was in the other one. 

Lindsey was bummed. She was happy they won. Of course she was. And deep down, she knew she contributed along the way to getting them where they needed to be, but she didn't get the nod from Jill in the final. It stung. Yet somehow, it stung less lying in that bed wrapped up in Emily's arms, with Emily brushing the hair out of her face and caressing her cheek and tracing her fingers along the back of her neck and telling her how fucking amazing she was. She couldn't even see Emily's face in the pitch-black room, but she knew every word Emily was saying was sincere, even in her drunken haze. When Emily finally stopped rattling off all the ways Lindsey was wonderful long enough to catch her breath, Lindsey had jumped in. "You know, Son, you're pretty amazing yourself. You're the best person I know. Everyday, you teach me empathy because your empathy consumes you. You are so loving and so-"

Emily had cut her off. "Doesn't matter."

"What does that even mean?" Lindsey asked, confused.

"None of it matters. I'm not smart enough. Not worldly enough. Not strong enough. Not the person you could take home, or introduce to your friends. Not attractive enough. Fuck, we would look so ridiculous together because you're beautiful, Linds. Like stunning. It's a good thing we're just friends, because you'd break my heart anyway. I'm not good enough for you. I'll never be good enough for you. I'll never be him."

Lindsey took a moment to process what she was hearing. It was a lot to take in. Emily's incredibly low self-esteem, typically masked by her humor, coming to light after too much alcohol. Her declaration of love for Lindsey, basically. The thought of them actually being together. Lindsey started to speak, to explain to Sonnett how wrong she was, to tell Sonnett that she would _never_ break her heart, but before she could open her mouth, soft snoring sounds were escaping Emily's. 

If only Lindsey had known that Sonny was faking sleep.

If only Sonny had bothered to think about the fact that Lindsey chose to spend that night with her over Russell, when he was right there.

The next morning came and went, and Emily acted like it never happened, so Lindsey acted like it never happened. And Lindsey, the queen of doubting herself, first convinced herself that Sonnett just went on a drunken rant and didn’t remember any of it because it was unimportant to her. And then, Lindsey convinced herself that even if Sonnett meant what she said, it was actually the other way around; Lindsey was unworthy of the kind of love Sonny could give her. It was easy enough for Lindsey to doubt herself when it came to soccer; it was ridiculously easy for Lindsey to doubt herself in relation to Sonny’s love.

* * *

Instead, Lindsey doesn’t say anything. She leans across the couch and pulls Emily into her lap. She’s tired of the awkwardness between them. She figures if she can close the physical distance, they can overcome the emotional distance. Emily doesn’t resist. She settles into Lindsey’s lap, lying on her side, and Lindsey pulls her hair out of the hair tie so she can run her fingers through Sonny's soft hair. 

Halfway through the movie, Emily looks up at Lindsey, “You’re not even watching,” she complains.

But Lindsey is watching exactly what she wants to be watching. She’s watching the creases fade from Emily's forehead and her face relaxing. She's watching the rise and fall of Sonnett’s chest and the slight bulge at her temple as she clenches her jaw when Lindsey sometimes uses her nails against Sonnett’s scalp, instead of the pads of her fingers. She's watching Emily's lips turn up in a smile at the silly parts in the movie and move, ever so slightly, as she mouths the words to the parts that she knows. She's watching Emily close her eyes in complete peace in brief spells because it's late, and she's fighting sleep to finish the movie.

As the credits roll, Emily rolls over in Lindsey's lap, looking up at her with her tired eyes. "Let's go to bed," Lindsey says softly with a little half-smile. 

"Linds..." Emily protests, but she doesn't protest too much. Not enough to prevent Lindsey from sliding out from under her and pulling her up off the couch, and dragging her by the hand down the hall to her bedroom. Not enough to resist changing into Lindsey's sweatshirt and her Thorns shorts. Not enough to stop Lindsey from holding her tonight, even though she's always the one holding Lindsey.

"I missed you, Dasani," Lindsey whispers into her hair. "So much."

"Me, too."

"Felt like we were fighting," Lindsey complains.

"We weren't," Emily yawns. "I was just giving you space. I didn't want people to have more reasons to spread rumors about us being more than friends."

"Fuck everybody," Lindsey says mirroring Emily's yawn. "I never want space from you again."

Emily scoots closer to her, pressing her ass into Lindsey. "There. No space. Can we go to sleep now please?"

Lindsey doesn't know if she can talk in this moment. She's afraid if she opens her mouth, the sound that might escape would give her away, so she throws her arm over Emily and figures that's good enough for an answer.

* * *

Lindsey's the first one awake the following morning, which is completely out of the ordinary. As the pale morning light gently weaves it's way through her blinds, she pulls Sonny closer, determined to keep her safe and warm and sleeping for as long as possible. Lindsey knows Emily would probably want to go to church, and she has things to do too - her pantsuit had been at the dry-cleaners for so long she was afraid they were going to give it to charity, and she is completely out of yogurt - but she doesn't want this moment to end. She wants to hold Emily forever and find a way to prove to her just how worthy of her love Emily is. 


	4. Singles You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shooter's shoot. Emily's not a shooter; she's a defender. But she vows that if she is ever given another opportunity to take a shot, she's going to take it. 
> 
> Or maybe she'll just take it now, when she's not exactly open, but she's drunk.

_He hasn't even looked your way since he walked in,  
But I can't help it that I can't take my eyes off of you.  
Your favorite song just came on and me and you were singing along,  
And he don't even know a single word._

_If he ever singles you up, if he's ever stupid enough_   
_I'ma be the first one calling you baby._   
_If he ain't holding you tight, if he ain't treating you right_   
_I'ma be the first one calling him crazy._   
_'Cause girl, it's just a matter of time until you find_   
_That the right [girl's] staring you back into your eyes, right now_   
_No rush, but if he ever singles you up_

Turns out, Emily did not have time. 

They got in a fight after the semi-final, after Emily stayed so far away from Lindsey on the pitch in the aftermath of their loss. Emily, still wary of all the eyes and all the cameras, all the rumors and all the posts on socials, chose to console AD on the opposite side of the 18, while Lindsey cried alone. When Emily boarded the bus and sat down beside her, Lindsey didn't grab her hand, and she pulled away when Emily tried to keep up their usual routine. In their hotel room, Lindsey slammed the bathroom door, and when Emily followed her in, now pissed that Lindsey was acting like this over a loss, Lindsey screamed at her. Told her she knew nothing. That she only cared about what other people thought. That this wasn’t about the loss, not even a little bit. Lindsey cursed. Then she called Emily a stupid. Well, her exact quote was "How can you be so fucking stupid, Sonnett?" Emily had been called a lot of things in her life, but in that moment, she couldn't think of a single person who, with one word, had hurt her more. Emily watched Lindsey's face fall, saw Lindsey's lips forming words, though she couldn't hear any of them above the ringing in her own ears, and met Lindsey's sad eyes with her own. She gave a little nod, turned, and left.

Emily was proud of herself for keeping it together as long as she did, long enough to get out of their hotel room. She kept the tears at bay until she was in the elevator, even with Lindsey calling after her from the doorway. She took a walk, got a coffee, tried to remind herself that it was always easier for someone to take out their frustrations on those they were closest to. But she couldn't bring herself to go back to their room. Besides, she didn’t have her key anyway. She thought about knocking on Tobin's door. In the end, she spent the night with Menges and Tyler. She knocked the next morning, and Lindsey opened the door with these big, hopeful eyes and an immediate apology.

“Yeah, I know you didn’t mean it, it’s cool,” Emily mumbled. But she declined Lindsey’s offer to go get a coffee saying she needed to pack. She sat alone on the bus and found an open seat next to AD on the plane. There was nothing more telling than any of those actions, really.

By the end of the week, Lindsey had packed up and was ready to move back to Denver with only a half-assed offer to grab brunch before her flight. Emily met her anyway. Lindsey tried to apologize again; Emily waved her off. They didn't talk about that day, just like they didn't talk about that night at Lindsey's apartment. Just like they didn't talk about ARod in Utah or their night in France or that alleyway in Orlando. Adding Chicago to the list was perfectly them. Not talking seemed to be their thing. Not talking was their _problem_. Lindsey paid the bill, gave Emily a weak hug, and was gone. 

It wasn’t like she was going to be gone forever – they had two more victory tour games before the end of the year – but it felt different this time.

* * *

Before Emily knows it, it's December, and he's at the Broncos game with her when there's no reason for him to be. Before Emily knows it, he’s on a plane to Hawaii with her. He’s going to be spending New Year's there. With her. Lindsey didn't even tell her. Not until Emily texted and asked why she was on a plane with him. Lindsey said was a Rush thing, and sure, it probably is, but Russell's posts on Instagram say otherwise. He posts a picture kissing her. He posts a picture calling Lindsey his girlfriend. That's the last straw for Emily. Lindsey didn't even tell her they were back together.

Emily can't decide if she wants to vomit or die. Maybe she should vomit first and then die afterwards. But she doesn't want anyone to have to deal with the cleanup, because that's gross, so she calls Kelley instead. Thankfully, Kelley is still in Georgia. That's about the only good thing to come out of it still being the holidays. Emily’s starting to hate the holidays.

As soon as Kelley sees Sonny's name pop up on her phone, a call instead of a text, she knows. She follows the fool on social media too. He posted like an hour ago. It was only a matter of time until Sonny saw it. Actually, Kelley's surprised that Emily doesn't have notifications on for his posts. Or maybe she does and she just waited to compose herself a little bit before calling. Kelley doesn’t wait to see if Emily’s doing ok or in hysterics. "Come over," she says, even before she says hi. 

"What?" Emily asks, stunned that Kelley knows exactly why she's calling. But of course Kelley knows.

"Come over," Kelley repeats. 

"I-, I-, I can't. Your girlfriend is there. This is your time to spend with her. I was just calling to ask you about- about..."

"About what?" Kelley asks, playing along.

"Um, TOCA? I wanted to know if we're doing a session tomorrow?"

"We already discussed this. We've got an early session. New Year's isn't an excuse to take a day off, Son," Kelley says flatly. She pauses for a minute. "You're not even a good liar." Then she softens her tone. "Just come over. You shouldn't be alone."

Emily's not alone. She's with her family. She has her parents and her sister. She has her dog. And her friends. But she gets what Kelley means. Surrounded by all those people who love her, she still _feels_ alone. Because none of them know what Kelley knows. 

Kelley meets her out front at her condo. She pulls Emily into a hug, and immediately Emily is sobbing into her shoulder, half because she's distraught about missing her chance with Lindsey and half because she feels guilty about messing up Kelley's time with her girlfriend. Kelley walks Emily up to her place, arm around Emily's shoulder. Emily waves sheepishly at Kam, but Kam doesn't seem to be bothered at all that Emily's there. Kelley tries to feed her. Emily makes a show about not wanting to inconvenience them any more than she already has, but Kelley's condo already smells like she's been cooking. She drags Emily off the couch and sets her down at the table, a bowl of pumpkin soup in front of her.

"Ok, I'm actually kind of excited about this, I have to admit. Your vegan food is nasty, but I love pumpkin pie," Emily rambles, moving the soup around with her spoon to cool it. "One time, on a cruise, they had strawberry soup and it was-"

"Kelley, tell her," Kam cuts in.

Kelley just smirks.

"Tell me what?" Emily asks, raising the spoon to her mouth.

It's savory. It tastes nothing like pumpkin pie. Nothing. It's nasty. Like all of Kelley's vegan food. Emily thinks she might vomit after all.

But Kelley is laughing at Emily, at her scrunched up face and the fact that she still hasn't swallowed yet. "Swallow! Before you splatter it all over my table." Emily looks like she's going to start gagging. "Swallow, Son. It was one tiny bite." Kelley's OCD is about to send her over the edge from thinking messing with Sonnett was funny to angry at the thought of her white linen place mats covered in burnt orange.

Emily swallows. And then starts making gagging sounds. Kelley can laugh again. Kam just shakes her head. "I don't know why you do this to her. You know how she's going to react."

"Because it's hilarious," Kelley says in between fits of laughter. 

Emily downs her entire glass of water. "I'm not eating that. Don't you have real food?" she chokes out.

"I'll make you a smoothie bowl," Kam says sympathetically, glaring at Kelley. "She's still a kid," she mouths to Kelley over Emily's shoulder.

"C'mon," Kelley says, motioning for Emily to follow her to the couch. She sits down and pulls Emily into her lap, stroking her head softly. Emily tenses up instantly when Kelley touches her. She always does, but it's worse now that Kelley's girlfriend is right there in the kitchen, where she can see them. Kelley just chuckles at her softly. She gets Emily better than anyone else in the whole world. "Relax."

Emily doesn't relax.

"Tell me what you're feeling."

Emily takes a minute. She doesn't want to say everything she has to say, because she knows how stupid it is. How stupid she was for falling for Lindsey in the first place. But she tells Kelley, because it's Kelley, and Kelley can get anything out of her, really.

She feels angry, betrayed, lost. She feels unworthy, unlovable, unimportant. She feels broken. She feels like she could never love anyone else like she loves Lindsey. She feels sick to her stomach at the thought of her with him. His eyes taking her all in. His lips on hers. His hands on her body. His... _fuck_!

She _knew_ better. 

Kelley warned her not to. 

* * *

It was during the 2018 season, when Portland had first played in Utah. Kelley insisted on taking Lindsey and Sonnett out for breakfast the day after the game. But Lindsey couldn't go, because Russell had traveled to Salt Lake City for the game, so Sonnett went out with Kelley alone. It was still early in the season. Emily hadn't seen Lindsey much between the kiss in Orlando and the start of the new season. Didn’t mean she had stopped thinking about Lindsey. Or the kiss. Lindsey was all Emily thought about all off-season. Spending time around Lindsey now was making her even more high strung than normal. Without Lindsey there, it was a good time for Kelley to find out what was up with Emily. She already knew, but she wanted to hear it from the source. Emily was tight-lipped. She spent most of the morning pushing around the food on her plate and claiming the avocado toast wasn’t up to par, as if avo toast could be messed up. She didn't talk much until Kelley brought her back to her apartment. And then the floodgates opened.

"I'm in love with Lindsey," she blurted out sitting at Kelley's table, accepting another cup of coffee, as if the three she had at breakfast weren't enough.

"In love, or you _think_ you're in love?" Kelley wanted Emily to be clear, to distinguish between the two.

"In love. _Definitely_ in love. I _thought_ I was in love before she kissed me, but now I know I'm in love with her. And I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Kelley sat there, expression unchanged, although she was shocked that Lindsey had been the one to initiate the kiss. But she didn't want to show her surprise, didn't want to interrupt Emily lest her questions stop Emily from finally opening up to her.

"I've never been in love before," Emily continued. "But she's all I think about. She's all I thought about all off-season. I came up with excuses to text her and to FaceTime her. I tried to come up with a reason to get her to come to Atlanta, but I couldn't think of anything. I did go out to Denver to see her once. I just needed to see her, more than I've ever needed to see anyone. I live for her smile. And her laugh. They're the best things in the whole world. I love making her smile."

 _You love making anyone and everyone smile_ , Kelley thought. _Doesn't necessarily mean anything_. 

Kelley tried to proceed gently, because it was Emily, who had the most sensitive of sensitive hearts. "Sweetie, I know you can't help but love her, but you have to protect your heart," Kelley warned. “These things, they can end bad. They can be fine, too, they can even be wonderful, but wonderful takes a lot of work. And by wonderful, I mean, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to keep what you have, nothing will change with your friendship. Because, Lindsey, she’s not… you know, that, Son. It just seems you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. I know a little bit about that,” Kelley said regretfully.

* * *

When Kelley said she knew, she meant she _knew_. 

She knew because she fell in love with Alex the exact same way Emily had fallen for Lindsey. And things with Alex, well they went _there_. Kelley knew better then, even when she was young. She knew Alex and her would never be a couple. She knew Alex would never leave Serv. She knew even if Alex really had true feelings for her, she’d never publicly be in Alex’s life. Alex's brand was too important. She knew all of these things and she let it happen anyway.

And at first, Kelley resented all of that. 

Resented it when Alex had her pinned against a wall, begging her not to leave.

Resented it when she had Alex naked on her back, legs fallen open, touching herself, because all Kelley had to do was sit back on her heels and refuse to give Alex what she wanted until Alex touched herself.

Resented it when her face was buried between Alex’s shaky legs, when her jaw was aching, when Alex had come so many times that the hotel towel they put down was soaked through and they were going to end up in Kelley’s bed when it was time to go to sleep.

Resented it when Alex would get in the shower, and Kelley finally had time to breathe, and to take care of herself, but Alex’s sing-songy voice would call her into the bathroom. And Kelley would go, let Alex pull her in the shower and against her warm, wet body. Let Alex nip at her neck and her collarbone as she guided Kelley’s hand between her legs. Kelley would run her fingers through Alex’s slippery folds, around Alex’s sensitive clit, until Alex was breathless in her ear, begging, “Inside, babe. Kell, baby, I _need_ you to fuck me.” God, those words made Kelley want to die. But her fingers would end up deep in Alex, and she’d use her own body for leverage to fuck Alex harder up against those cold tile walls of countless hotel bathrooms with steam rising all around them. And Alex would throw her head back moaning in a way that would bring Kelley right to the brink, but never let her topple over, as she kissed Alex’s neck, never leaving a mark. Not once. Because Alex wasn’t hers. And she resented that, too

Resented that hearing and tasting Alex left her so worked up that all Alex would have to do was run her thumb across Kelley’s clit, under her shorts, over her underwear, as Kelley made her way back up from between Alex’s legs. And there, fully clothed, on her hands and knees, she’d come. Or how all Alex had to do was pull Kelley against her thigh, dig her nails into Kelley’s ass to bring her flush, flex, wait for Kelley to reflexively grind against her, and Kelley would be done.

And Kelley especially resented it when Alex would crawl into bed with her, wrapping Kelley up in her arms, and tell her things she never should have said out loud. “You’re so fucking good, babe.” Or “No one’s ever made me come like you. So hard. So many times I can’t even count. Kell, I didn’t know sex could feel like this until you.” Or “I have to fake it with him sometimes, or at least think about you to get off. When he’s inside me, I pretend it’s you.” Or when she was just a bit tipsy, “I fucking love you so much, Kell. More than anyone else in the whole world. I can’t lose you.”

Because the truth was, Alex had real feelings for Kelley, but her image trumped everything else. This woman was the love of Kelley's life, and she Alex's, but what they could be was out of reach. Kelley probably resented herself, too. But that’s what she resented the most.

In the end, Kelley found a way to let go of all that resentment. Because losing Alex wasn't going to happen anymore than having an affair with a married woman was going to happen. It took Kelley awhile, and her scorched-earth policy hurt a lot of women in the process, but they found a way to make it work, to make sure things between them stayed exactly the same, minus the sex. It took years for Kelley to be ok on the inside, and Alex never knew that, but she was finally ok, and that's all that mattered.

So Kelley _knew_. 

Knew all the conflict in Sonnett’s head.

Knew the pain she was feeling.

Knew how Lindsey would unintentionally, but inevitably, destroy her.

Because Kelley barely survived Alex. As strong as she was, Alex marrying Serv almost broke her. She only survived because the loss of Alex’s friendship was worse than the loss of their romance. But Sonnett – kind, empathetic, sensitive, heart-on-her-sleeve Sonnett – would never survive having Lindsey in that way and then losing her to Russell. So Kelley kept telling Sonnett that Lindsey is straight, because knowing that Lindsey is bi – and she _is_ bi – would make this even harder for Sonnett. Kelley had absolutely no faith that Lindsey would ever choose Sonnett over Russell. She had had the chance to, multiple times, and every time, she ended up right back with him. Just like she was now. On a plane to Hawaii. Because Russell fits the mold of this stupid outwardly perfect life that she envisions, and Sonnett doesn’t.

So Kelley had tried to warn her, with a very PG-13 version of the story.

And Kelley tries to warn her again. Not that she thinks her words are actually going to hit. No one could have talked her out of fucking Alex and loving Alex and wanting to spend the rest of her life with Alex back then.

* * *

Kelley invites Emily back over for a quiet New Year's Eve at her place - it's just her and her girlfriend - so Sonnett can get out of her house for a bit. Emily reluctantly agrees after Kelley tells her a dozen times that she's not interrupting anything. They're just going to hang out, drink a little, play some games, watch the ball drop in Times Square. Kelley's cooks, black bean tacos and cilantro lime rice that she knows Emily will actually eat. She has a very stocked bar for someone who doesn't spend a lot of time in the city, and she lets Emily pick a playlist. They play gin rummy and monopoly deal, and other than the fact that Emily keeps making herself drinks, everything is going well, and Kelley thinks that maybe this time away from Lindsey, without having a chance to talk to her, has been a good thing. Until Emily suggests beer pong, and despite Kam's disapproving look, Kelley can't turn down the chance to kick Emily's ass, which leaves Emily drunker than before. 

By the time, it's nearing 11, she's sitting on the couch, drinking out of a bottle of liquor, and refusing to let Kelley take it away. 

By 11:30, she's put the bottle down, but now she's talking about how she's going to call Lindsey and confess her undying love. So yeah, Kelley, obviously, didn't get through to her. Kelley doesn't say anything, but she gives Emily _that_ look, and even in her drunken state, Emily _knows_ that Kelley knows she hasn't told her everything. She starts rambling, because that look from Kelley can get just about anything out of her.

Kelley already heard about Orlando. She doesn't know about France. Emily explains to Kelley that she basically told Lindsey that she had feelings for her, that every nerve in her body was on fire because it felt like maybe something was going to happen, but she freaked out. She faked that she passed out drunk because she was afraid Lindsey wouldn't feel the same, and then she never brought the conversation up again, and neither did Lindsey. Kelley saw what happened at the Utah game, but she doesn't know how awkward things were _after_ Utah, and how Lindsey fixed them only for Emily to fuck up again, because Emily was afraid of all the eyes on them at the semi-final, afraid someone would snap of photo of them looking too touchy. She tells Kelley that Lindsey had even told her after Utah that she didn't care what anyone thought about them, but Emily still managed to fuck things up. Lindsey was so mad. So fucking mad at Emily for not even trying to be there for her. And nothing's been the same since. 

Emily picks up her phone, and Kelley gently takes it from her hand before Emily sends off some drunken, unreadable text message. "Son, you really gotta let this thing with her go. I know it's not easy. I _know. B_ ut the two of you can't keep doing this to each other. _You_ can't keep feeling like this. She's got a boyfriend, they've been together for a long time," Kelley's voice is soft and kind, treading lightly, because she knows how much these words hurt to hear. "Sonnett, she loves, you, I know she does, but she doesn't love you the way you want her to. She's not in love with you. You deserve to find someone who's in love with you. You deserve to be happy, and she's not going to be the one who makes you happy, no matter, how much you want her to. You're her friend. Be her friend. Love her. Love her like you love me. But that's it. Be open to finding love with someone else."

Kelley hugs her, hard, but within a few minutes, Emily is lying in Kelley's lap, and Kelley is rubbing her head, she's drifting in and out. Kelley puts Sonnett's phone down on her coffee table, and motions Kam, who's been hanging back in the kitchen, to come sit by her. "She's gonna be ok," Kelley says with a sigh. "I know she is. One day," Kelley looks at Kam, "she'll meet someone, and she'll realize that what she thought was love was just infatuation. She'll feel like an idiot. And she'll realize that the girl she thought she wanted wasn't the one at all. She'll finally know what love is. What it means to be in love with someone."

Kam tucks a leg under her and turns to Kelley, playing with her fingers across the back of the couch. "Is that so?" she asks knowingly. Kelley nods, holding eye contact. "And how will she know? That the new girl is really the one this time?" Kam wants to know. 

Kelley pulls her closer so she can rub the back of her hand against Kam's cheek. "She'll have this moment, this 'there she is' moment. This oh my God, she's who I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with moment. A moment where she kisses this woman and never wants to kiss anyone else for as long as she lives and she thinks to herself 'I will go to the ends of the Earth for her.' This 'I've been waiting my whole life for her and now God's put her right here in front of me' moment, and this woman will feel it too. And will tell her."

"Yeah?" Kam murmurs.

"Yeah," Kelley says, softly pulling Kam even closer so their lips meet.

Kam pulls back enough to lean her forehead against Kelley. "She should probably put a ring on it if she ever meets a woman she feels all those things for, who feels the same thing for her."

"Baby," Kelley breathes against her lips.

"You know, whenever she's ready. I bet that woman will be ready for her."

The TV, that has just been background noise, gets Kelley's attention, and she's thankful, because she wants to spend the rest of her life with her partner, but she cannot handle proposing to her, not right now. It's too scary. They're less than 60 seconds from midnight. "Sonnett," Kelley shakes Emily's shoulder. "Son! Wake up, you're gonna miss New Year's." 

Emily just grumbles, shifting in her lap. 

"She's out," Kam says sympathetically. "Let's leave her alone."

As the count hits zero, Kelley pulls Kam back in and kisses her, lets Kam deepen the kiss. And it's a little awkward, because she can't really turn like she wants to with Emily's heavy head there, but it's ok. There was a long time when Kelley didn't have a New Year's kiss that meant anything to her, and Kam means everything to her.

And then she hears it.

"Kelley's making out with her partner and I'm lying in Kelley's lap. That's pretty crazy, huh? She's been rubbing my head but now she stopped because her hands are somewhere else now, and I just wanted to say Happy New Year, Linessi."

Emily fucking got her phone off the coffee table and drunk dialed Lindsey. 

"Oh god," Kelley mutters. "Sonnett, hang up." 

"No I'm leaving Lindsey a message to tell her that I'm in love with her because she needs to know. Even if she's there fucking Russell, she needs to know." Sonnett argues, call still going. "Maybe she'll hear it when she's done."

"Give me your phone. Emily! Stop talking."

"Kelley, she needs to hear this." Emily doesn't stop talking. "Have you been around both of them. She doesn't laugh like herself when she's with him. He doesn't let her _laugh_ , Kell. He said she laughs too big, that's it's too loud. He told her it was embarrassing. Kelley, you've heard her laugh. It's the best sound I've ever heard. Lindsey, did you hear that? Your laugh is the best sound in the whole wide world. I wanna make you laugh everyday for the rest of my life. He shouldn't make you feel like you can't be you because you're perfect."

"Sonnett, you're drunk. This is not the time, give me the phone." Kelley doesn't want to yank it out of her hand, but at this moment, it seems like that would be in Emily's best interest. She tries, but, as drunk as Emily is, she rolls off Kelley's lap, onto the floor, stumbles to her feet, and keeps talking.

Well, it's more slurring, and Kelley thinks that maybe the fact that Sonnett can hardly form intelligible words is probably the only redeeming thing about this whole fucked up situation. There's no way Lindsey is going to be able to understand any of it, right? Kelley can hardly understand it.

"Anyway," Emily keeps talking. "I don't want to be your friend. It's midnight now and I wanted... you were supposed to...."

"Sonnett! She's on vacation with her boyfriend. Hang up."

"I don't have to listen to you," Emily says backing away, still talking. "Linds, I just think it's really fucked up that..." and the thought occurs to Kelley that maybe she'll back herself into a corner and she won't stand a chance at protecting her phone then. Instead, she heads right out Kelley's front door so she can finish whatever it is that she _needs_ Lindsey to know in this particular moment. Which, before Emily closes the door, sounds something like, "When he cheats on you again, you better be ready, Linessi, cause I'm gonna shoot my shot."

By the time Kelley puts shoes on and catches up to her in the parking lot, Emily's finished leaving her message, and is sitting on the curb, and Kelley doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. "This was fun, Kell. We should do it again. Did you bring me my keys so I can go home?"

Ok, so there's one more thing about the situation that's a little redeeming. At least Emily's not a sad drunk. Or an angry drunk. She seems ok, actually.

"Nah, Son. We're gonna have a sleepover. Does that sound fun?" Kelley doesn't care if she has to bribe Emily to get her back in the apartment at this point. 

"I love sleepovers," Emily yawns, seemingly totally oblivious to what she just might have done.


	5. Someone You Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey returns to the aftermath of her decisions.

_I’m going under and this time I fear there’s no one to save me.  
_ _This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.  
_ _I need somebody to heal  
_ _Somebody to know  
_ _Somebody to have  
_ _Somebody to hold  
_ _It’s easy to say, but it’s never the same  
_ _I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain._

Lindsey doesn’t listen to the voicemail on New Year’s Eve. She sees it – it’s almost 5 minutes long – but she’s getting ready to go out to dinner with Russell and his friends, and whatever it is, she knows she doesn’t have time to deal with it. Especially not trapped with him in that hotel room. Besides, if it were an emergency, Sonnett would have texted. No emergency warrants a voicemail that long. 

The next morning, Lindsey can’t bring herself to listen to it either. Something in her gut is telling her exactly what it is – the length, the timing – it can’t be good, or at least not easy, and she can’t handle listening to it. Not now. Not after last night, with him. Because she can’t break down in front of him, and whatever’s on the other end of pressing play seems like it’s going to make her break down. And avoiding has always been so much easier for her than facing anything. 

* * *

As soon as she gets back to Denver, just two days away from having to go back to camp, she knows she has to listen. It’s been eating away at her, leaving her stomach in knots, leaving her unable to eat, to sit still, to sleep. She tells him she feels sick. Maybe it’s the flu. No, she doesn’t feel like soup. He should just go down to his own condo in case it’s contagious. Hiding under blankets, alone on her couch, she presses play. Just the sound of Sonnett’s voice brings tears to her eyes and warms her stomach. Even if there’s bad news on the other end of this, Lindsey’s visceral reaction to that sound it telling. It feels like she hasn’t talked to Sonnett in forever, like they’ve never gone this long without hearing each other’s voices. 

Sonnett sounds extra cute when she’s drunk, the liquidity she spent the better part of a decade learning to hide rolling off her tongue once the alcohol took over. Lindsey giggles as she pictures Kelley and Kam making out with Sonnett passed out in Kelley’s lap. At Kelley arguing with her to hang up the phone. And then the tears are streaming down Lindsey’s face as she processes Emily’s words.

What Emily says, Lindsey knows is true, but over the years, she’s gotten so good at blocking it out, at not thinking about it. The way he treats her. The way he makes her feel like she needs to be smaller. And Emily sees it - has always seen it – but Emily wants Lindsey to be larger than life, the way she was meant to be. To stand out. To shine. To laugh so loud it fills a room.

He criticizes her; Emily tells her she’s perfect.

He’s jealous of her outgoing personality; Emily loves it, feeds off of it even.

He complains about the way she dresses; Emily tells her she looks hot. And sometimes gay. Well, more often than not, when Emily sees what Lindsey is wearing, Emily points out something gay about her outfit – the backwards ballcap, the jean jacket, the chain round her neck, the camo. But it feels like a compliment the same way as when Emily told her she looked breathtaking at Allie’s wedding, gorgeous at last year’s Stand Together banquet, and striking, but gay, in the red pantsuit she wore to the ESPY’s. Because there’s always a compliment when Emily sees her.

He hates her laugh; Emily craves it. _The best sound in the whole wide world._

In between her tears, Lindsey can’t help but laugh, at the panic in Kelley’s voice, like she’s failed as a babysitter, at the thud and “oh shit” that she can only guess is Sonnett falling, at her being drunk enough to tell Kelley that Kelley can’t tell her what to do. She can picture the rage on Kelley’s face when Sonnett said that. She never would have talked to Kelley like that sober. And Emily claiming she’s going to shoot her shot. Like a damn teenager. 

And then comes a change in Sonnett’s tone. The sadness and pain so obvious behind the slurring. She becomes serious. Quiet. She sounds surprisingly sober. “I’m in love with you, Linessi. Crazy, madly, deeply in love with you. So in love that I don’t know what to do. And I’m so scared. Scared that you’ll never love me back. Scared that if I tell you this, I’ll lose you forever. But it’ll hurt way more to always wonder what could have been. I’m sure of this because I’ve lived it since Orlando. No, since before Orlando. The never knowing what could be if I don’t tell you. Sometimes I feel like it could kill me, the not knowing. I know I fucked up, Linds. I know I had so many chances and you’re back with him now. I fucked up so bad. I know it’s too late. I just needed you to know. That I’m in love with my straight best friend. How fucked up is that?” Emily voice faded and Lindsey feared it wouldn’t come back. Like maybe she had passed out. “I love you, k? And I always will. But I’ll leave you alone now and forever if that’s what you want. Sorry if I’ve made your life all messy. Sorry for trying to push our friendship to be more if that’s not what you want. Happy New Year.”

It finally sinks in that Sonnett has been in so much pain for so long. And she’s the reason.

She presses play again and again, until the laughter is blending into the tears, until she’s memorized the entire voicemail. Emily Sonnett loves her. Is _in_ love with her. And being forced to acknowledge that is one of the hardest, scariest things she’s ever faced. Because it’s _in_ her face. Can’t be ignored. Can’t be swept under the rug. Can’t be explained away as overly touchy friendship. Can’t be blamed on alcohol because alcohol only brings out the truth. Can’t be walled off in her brain like a kiss up against a brick wall in a dark alley in Orlando. Like an almost confession. Like a should-have-been red card. 

She’s always run back to Russell’s arms because it’s easier. Easier because there’s no real risk there. Easier than being judged by total strangers. Easier than wrapping her head around the idea of walking down the street holding a woman’s hand. Easier than admitting to her family that she’s bi. Easier than admitting it to herself. Easier because she can survive him hurting her, but she can’t handle hurting Emily. Maybe easier because she’s not in love with him, but she is in love with her and if Emily hurts her... 

Lindsey thinks she can only handle easy. She’s never thought she could be strong enough for hard. For heartbreak especially. Because heartbreak is inevitable. Relationships don’t last forever. They’re not even together and they’ve already fought like they were, already hurt each other like they were. 

Maybe she doesn’t want to run anymore.

But suddenly, pressing that little blue button to return Emily’s call seems too hard. 

She calls Kelley instead.

* * *

“What?” Kelley’s voice sounds flat, and given her lack of greeting, Lindsey thinks that maybe she’s lucky flat is the best way to describe Kelley’s tone.

“Hey… Kell…” Lindsey says hesitantly, trying to brighten her voice, but she’s met with silence. “How was your break? Excited for camp in- ”

“What do you want, Horan?” Kelley cuts in sharply, triggering Lindsey’s guilt. It’s almost a relief to Lindsey to be talked to like that. Like she knows it’s what she deserves.

“I- I- I- just wanted to know how you’re doing.”

“How am _I_ doing?” Kelley says sarcastically, not even trying to cover a snort. “Did you call to ask about _me_ or did you call to ask about Son?” Lindsey starts to stutter again, but Kelley interrupts. “Or rather, maybe I should be asking why it’s been four days and you haven’t even bothered to address the fact that our best friend bravely confessed her undying love for you.”

“She was drunk.”

“See. This. This is why I just cannot with you. Listen. This is ridiculous. It’s gone on too long. You need to leave her alone.”

“What? No, I love her.”

“She told you she was in love with you and you couldn’t even bother to call her back. Do you have any idea how much more that hurt her? Jesus fucking Christ, Lindsey. You could have said anything. I’m straight. I’m in love with Russell. You’re my best friend, but I don’t see you as more than a friend. It all would have been a lie, but _anything_ would have been better than not acknowledging her,” Kelley seethes.

“I just got home, I didn’t mean to…” Lindsey says weakly.

“Yeah. I bet you couldn’t find a minute to call her back in between lying on the beach with a Mai Tai and fucking Russell.”

“Kelley, you know how I feel about her. That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you stringing her along.” 

“I haven’t. Not intentionally,” Lindsey tries to argue. But she knows it’s not exactly true.

“Bullshit.”

“Kell.”

“Bullshit. It’s all bullshit. And I don’t fucking get it. I see how you look at her, the way she makes you laugh and smile. What the fuck were you waiting for?”

“I’m just sacred. But I do love her,” Lindsey insists.

“No, you love how she makes you feel. Wanted. Needed. Valued. Sexy. It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? To have someone love you the way she loves you?” Kelley asks rhetorically. “But you don’t love her. If you did, you wouldn’t hurt over and over and over again. Anytime things get tough, you run back to him. Anytime you can’t handle being alone, you run back to him. And every time, you break her a little more. Your first call wasn’t even to her. Why the fuck did you even call me?” 

“I’m gonna call her now. I just wanted to know that she’s ok.”

“You’re not. You’re not calling her. You’re gonna leave her alone.” Kelley’s voice has changed from angry to stern. She’s not playing around. Not leaving any room for argument. 

“What?” Lindsey almost laughs at how ridiculous it all is, Kelley telling her she can’t call Sonny.

“She’s done.”

“No she’s not,” Lindsey protests.

“She’s fucking done. Done done. It took years. It took you not even acknowledging that she poured her heart out to you. But she’s ready to take some time for herself. And move on.”

“No.” Lindsey’s crying now.

“No? Who the fuck do you think you are? You had so many chances. You don’t get to destroy her again just because now that you’ve lost her, you finally decide you want her. That’s not how this works.

“I haven’t lost her. I’m going to call her.”

“Don’t you dare. I will fucking kill you if you stir shit up again. Every day you leave her alone and stop giving her hope, she’ll get closer and closer to being ok. And then one day she’ll be more ok than she’s been in three years. She’ll be happy without the side of hurt. So you’re not going to call her. And you’re going to stop touching her and flirting with her and acting like you’re in love when you’re in camp. I don’t know if you’ve listened to yourself. Not once have you said you’re in love with her. You keep saying you love her. I fucking love the shit outta that kid, so maybe you _do_ love her. But it’s not the same. You’ve made her feel worthless. So if you truly love her, leave her alone. If you love her, you can do that for her. Stop breaking her heart, Lindsey, and figure out how to be her friend.”

* * *

Lindsey cries for two days. She cries because it feels like she’s lost Sonny. Because she’s the one who caused all of Sonny’s pain, and all of her own pain, too. Because she’s not brave, but she’s hella selfish. Because she’s scared. Because she’s been scared for years. And stupid. So supremely stupid. Because of what Kelley did and said, and because Kelley had every right to. She cries because deep down, it terrifies her that everything Kelley said might be true.

She loves how Emily makes her feel.

She loves feeling safe.

She loves feeling desired.

She loves that Emily is there for her to numb all the negative emotions that flood her thoughts because of soccer. Because of Russell. Because of her own insecurities. 

She loves that Emily is the one person in her life who can bring out the sun in the middle of a storm.

She loves feeling loved.

She loves knowing that no matter what happens in her life, it all seems bearable because Emily will always be there. Except now, maybe she won’t.

Because you don’t hurt someone you’re in love with. But that’s exactly what Lindsey’s done.

She was so close. So ready. Too late.

She cries alone in her bed, resisting the urges coursing through her body that are telling her to call Sonny. She cries while she packs. In the restroom at the airport. Lindsey cries until she’s left wracked by shuddering sobs without tears because there are no more tears left to fall. 

She didn’t cry saying goodbye to Russell, because he can’t know. She won’t cry when she sees Sonny, no matter how badly she wants to, no matter how much she’s shaking internally as she holds back those tears. Not when Sonny’s eyes meet hers the second she walks into the conference room – half the team already there – like she just knew it was Lindsey when the door opened. Like she could feel the presence of her soulmate. Not when Sonny looks away so quickly, but not quickly enough to hide the pained expression on her face. Her lips part, about to say something to her best friend, but she doesn’t know what to say. 

And in that pause – Lindsey doesn’t know how long she stands there, mouth agape – Kelley’s hand lands on the small of her back. Light. Gentle. Kind almost. And her voice, as she tells Lindsey they’re rooming together, it sounds nothing like it did through the phone a couple of days ago. The bite’s gone, replaced with empathy, almost. There’s no hint of apology in it, just understanding. And there’s no point of arguing about the room assignments.

Lindsey escapes to Tobin’s room as soon as she and Christen arrive from California. It’s the only place she can breakdown safely, because outside of her friend group - a group she can’t seem to be part of right now – Tobin’s the only one who’s seen her break down. 


	6. Before You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were supposed to be a package deal.

_Was never the right time, whenever you called  
__Went little by little by little until there was nothing at all  
_ _Our every moment, I start to replay  
_ _But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face  
_ _  
When you hurt under the surface  
_ _Like troubled water running cold  
_ _Well time can heal but this won’t_

 _So, before you go  
_ _Was there something I could’ve said to make your heart beat better?  
_ _If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather  
_ _So, before you go  
_ _Was there something I could’ve said to make it all stop hurting?  
_ _It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless  
_ _So, before you go_

 _Would we be better off by now  
_ _If I’d have let my walls come down  
_ _Maybe, I guess we’ll never know_

Tobin didn’t expect the soft knock on her door to be Lindsey, and when she sees Lindsey’s face – flushed cheeks, deep worry lines, and watery eyes, like she’s had to hold back tears the length of the hallway to Tobin’s room – she certainly doesn’t expect anyone but Russell to be the cause. 

The first day Lindsey hangs out in Tobin’s room, she refuses to talk, and Christen won’t let Tobin ask Lindsey what happened. The second day when Lindsey comes back after their first session, Tobin can’t help herself. She’s tired of seeing her friend like this and not knowing how to help. “What’s wrong, Linds?” Tobin sighs, following Lindsey’s lead and plopping down on the bed beside her. She’s heard it all before, several times a year, in fact. Right before camp seems like a particularly annoying time for him to upset her, but also… predictable. 

“Tobin! Leave her alone!” One look at Lindsey’s face on the way in told Christen that they needed to give her more time, and the pillow over her head now confirms it.

But Tobin, ever the fixer, is not about that. “Why? It’s Lindsey,” she replies, rubbing soft circles on Lindsey’s back.

“It’s ok, Chris,” Lindsey sniffles, sound muffled by the pillow.

“Did that asshole break up with you?” Tobin insists on finding out what this is all about.

“No.”

“Well why are you crying then? Oh, God, did someone die?”

“Feels like it,” Lindsey mumbles. She pauses before continuing. “Because I love Sonnett. I'm crying because I love Sonnett,” Lindsey’s voice cracks, and the sniffles turn back into tears.

“Of course you do. She loves you, too. But why are you crying? Is it cause you're like, in love with a girl, or what?” Tobin lets out a half chuckle. 

“Because she left me this long drunken message on New Year’s and told me she was in love with me and then I didn’t say it back. I didn’t even call her back. Kelley says I love her – but that I really just love how she makes me _feel_. She said I’m not _in_ love with her. She said I use her. That I’m selfish. That- ”

“Linds.” Tobin cuts her off. “You know that’s not true.” Her voice is soft and steady, very Christen-like.

“But it is. I love how she makes me laugh and I love that she’ll drop anything when I need her and I love how she makes me feel good about myself when I don’t even _want_ to feel good about myself,” Lindsey rambles. “I _am_ selfish. I thought I was in love with her but maybe I don’t even know what that means. What if I don’t even know how to really love someone?”

“But you do the same things for her,” Tobin points out. “She lights up when you’re around. You make her laugh more than anyone and- ”

“Except Rose,” Lindsey rolls over and puts the pillow back over her face.

“Granted. But you make her laugh, too. And you listen to her, every word she says, like she’s the most important person in the room, always. I’ve seen you drop everything for her. Pick her up when she’s down. You have her back all the time. She makes you lose control. You went after _ARod_ and- ”

“Well that’s cause she said- ” Lindsey interrupts.

“I know what she said. And if she had said that stuff about Christen, I would have gone after her too, but if she had said it about you, I would’ve just told her to fuck off. It’s different. You broke up with Russell because of how he treated her. Dude, that’s more than just ‘ _you’re my friend, I care about you_.’” It doesn't make Lindsey feel much better, it only serves to remind her that she eventually got back with Russell after he said what he said about Sonnett.

Christen takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “And who’s the one, the only one, who can make Sonnett believe in herself? Who can convince her that she's good enough? That she deserves to be on this team? _You_. I’ve seen you do that for her. And you hurt when she hurts. I know you do,” Christen adds softly. "That's because you're in love with her."

“That's because she’s my friend,” Lindsey argues weakly.

Christen looks at her skeptically. “Do you feel like she’s just your friend?”

“Well, no. But Kelley said- ”

“Kelley’s coming from…” Christen pauses as she tries to figure out how to word what she needs to say, “… a place of fear. She loves Sonnett and she’s afraid you’ll hurt her because she got hurt by… someone. She’s just projecting. Only _you_ know how you feel.”

“Dude, you can’t let Kelley tell you if you’re in love or not,” Tobin agrees.

“But what if I don’t know? How did you know?” Lindsey moves the pillow off her face and sits up a little, looking desperately between the two of them. 

Christen and Tobin share this look that almost seems like it’s only for them even though Lindsey is right there. The recount the ways they knew.

_She’d do yoga and meditate and I always thought those things were stupid, but when she did them, I wanted to learn._

_There’s no one else on the planet like Tobin. With her heart and her vision._

_I’d be juggling a ball and thinking about when I was going to see Christen next._

_She leaves her shoes all over the place and the cap off the toothpaste, and when it was my ex-boyfriend doing that shit, it bothered me enough to fight about it, but when it was Tobin, it was just like “yeah, I can put the cap on the toothpaste, it’s not a big deal._

_Because I was afraid she didn’t love me back. I never cared before._

_Tobin felt like an addiction. The more I was with her, the more I needed to see her. I never got tired of her. I get tired of everyone._

_When I got injured, I thought about what my life would be like without soccer, and no matter the scenario, Christen was always in it._

“All of this sounds unhealthy,” Lindsey muses, not that she even knows what a healthy relationship looks like. And Christen and Tobin are about as perfect as a couple as she’s ever seen.

“It can be at first, until you figure it out. Being in love lights up the same part of your brain as using a drug. But then you realize that you both feel the same and no one’s going anywhere. No one’s giving up when it gets hard. And you don’t need to be possessive and out of control and jealous. And then it gets really good,” Christen explains.

“It’s a two-way street with you guys,” Tobin interjects. “So if Kelley made you feel like it’s not, she’s wrong and I’m gonna let her know it. You are every bit as much in love with Sonny as she is with you.”

“I am?" Lindsey asks softly. "I am," she repeats more confidently.

“So go get your girl,” Tobin tells her with a smack on the back, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t. Kelley said she’s done with me.” Tears fill Lindsey’s eyes again and her chin trembles as she tries to hold them back.

Tobin laughs. “That girl will never be done with you.”

“Go tell her you’re in love with her, Lindsey.” Christen squeezes her hand.

“And if she doesn’t love me anymore?” The tremble of Lindsey’s chin extends to her voice.

“She does. Maybe you’ll have to give her time because you hurt her. But she does,” Christen promises. “We all see it. Kelley sees it even if she doesn’t want to.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she’s Sonny. She’ll never love anyone like she loves you,” Tobin shakes her head. “I’ve watched you two dance around your feelings for four years.”

“I can give her time if she needs it. Fuck, I deserve to suffer,” Lindsey moans.

“You don’t. But whatever. Go get your girl.”

Before Lindsey even has a chance to get off the bed, there’s a knock at the door. Her heart drops. A little piece of her thinks – hopes – that maybe it’s Sonnett. 

It’s Kelley who pushes her way past Christen.

There’s fire in her eyes when she looks at Lindsey and says what she _has_ to say but doesn’t _want_ to say. “Sonnett needs you. She got traded.” As simple as that. No explamation. Kelley holds out the key she took from Sonnett’s nightstand after she gave up on trying to console her. There’s only one person Sonnett wants in this moment – even if she didn’t say it – and it’s the person who’s equally hurt by the shocking news. 

Lindsey can’t stop repeating the word no – out loud and in her head. It feels like the word is consuming her. She’d think Kelley was pranking her, except the way her stomach dropped, she knows this is real. Kelley’s face, fallen, sadder than Lindsey can remember seeing it since Kelley got injured last year, says it all. It feels like she’s not getting enough oxygen to her lungs or her brains. She can’t process what’s happening. She feels lightheaded. Her chest hurts. Sonnett was their first-round draft pick. You don’t trade away your first-round draft pick just as she’s reaching the prime of her career. They can’t be separated because they’re a package deal. Playing without Sonny… it’s not even an option. It’s not. It can’t be. There has to be a mistake. They didn’t trade Sonnett.

“Don’t make this about you.” Kelley’s voice cuts viciously through Lindsey’s thoughts. It’s not jealously; it’s anger masking the fear and hurt she feels for one of her closest friends, for the kid she feels like she's raised over the past few years. “1405.” Kelley presses the key into Lindsey’s hand. “She’s devastated. I can’t fix it. And you can’t fix it. But she needs you.”

Lindsey finds her buried under the covers. She doesn’t remember Sonnett ever looking this small, like the bed and the blankets could swallow her. So small that the outline of her body is barely visible under the comforter. Without a word, Lindsey slides under the covers behind her, pulling Sonnett into her arms. She’s crying so hard that Lindsey worries she’s on the verge of hyperventilating. Thinks she might have to go get someone from the training staff. She doesn’t know that she’ll be able to make any more of a difference than Kelley did. 

“Sonny,” she whispers, and the sound that comes out of Emily's mouth, this loud wail full of anguish and rage and fear, it scares and devestates Lindsey all at the same time. “Match my breathing,” she manages to choke out.

It takes a long time, the gut-wrenching sobs tearing through both Emily's chest and into Lindsey's, but eventually Sonnett’s breathing steadies. The tears don’t stop, for either of them. Sonnett’s pillow is soaked with her own and Sonnett’s hair is soaked from Lindsey’s. They lie there for hours. Miss dinner. Ignore the occasional soft rap on the door. Sam doesn’t try to come in. Neither speaks. 

Before they know it, the fading sun has plunged the room into almost-darkness, and Lindsey realizes Sonnett still has her shoes on. She shifts to get up to take them off for her, but Sonnett grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Please don’t go,” she begs, her voice so tiny, nothing like that usual booming, glorious sound.

“I’m just taking your shoes off,” Lindsey brings their joined hands up to her lips and kisses the back of Sonnett’s. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” But Sonnett knows that’s not true – they both do – and she grips Lindsey’s hand tighter. It forces Lindsey to maneuver around her and take Sonnett’s shoes off with one hand. Thankfully, the girl still doesn’t tie them. And then Lindsey’s back in bed, back holding Sonnett.

* * *

The subsequent eight days are awkward. Ash and Ali are excited to have her, but Sonnett can't look at them as she pushes food around on her plate during meals when they try talking to her. Christen and Kelley gently encourage Sonnett to talk to the team psychologist. When she refuses, the coaching staff steps in and forces her to meet for appointments daily. Lindsey meets with her every day, too. She’s hurting as much as Sonnett is, but she can’t talk to her best friend about it. Because by the grace of God, she gets to stay in Portland and Sonnett is going to be shipped to the opposite side of the country. Everyone who’s done a long-distance relationship (the majority of the team), except the three teammates privy to Lindsey’s inner feelings, downplay the situation. They’ve survived months apart from their spouses and significant others; Lindsey will be just fine without her friend. They don’t know the truth and she doesn’t tell them. She hasn’t even told Sonnett. 

They don’t cry in the daylight, but at night, the tears fall like snow in the backyard of Lindsey’s childhood home at the start of winter– slow and steady. No matter how hard Lindsey tries, she's never able to hide hers. At bedtime, Kelley switches rooms with Sonnett so she can at least try to sleep in Lindsey’s arms. The two are inseparable, but hardly speak – to each other, or anyone else. Except in bed. Away from everyone else, Lindsey’s depression mixes with bargaining and anger, the stages of grief never intended to be a straight line. She doesn’t believe in God, but in this moment, she think’s she’d offer up anything to get the trade taken back. Or at least to stop Sonnett’s pain. She rails against Mark and Merritt. Swears she’ll never don a Thorns jersey again. Says she hopes they don’t even make the playoffs. She promises to request a trade next year.

Sonnett's depression manifests in a much more subdued way. At night, Lindsey listens as Emily pours out her feelings, the depth of her insecurities finally coming to light. She’s always felt a little ineffective; this trade has left her feeling worthless. Lindsey fears it's broken her.

_I don’t belong – here or there. I never did._

_They wasted their number one pick on me and I disappointed them._

_They traded me for an unproven rookie._

_Mark doesn’t believe in me anymore._

_It’s because of my red card. I’m more of a liability than an asset._

_ARod was right._

_I was never good enough._

She even lashes out at Lindsey once, the day the news is made public. Because Lindsey is the closest thing she has in the world and the only one there to lash out at. Because Lindsey has always been the one to quash these negative thoughts before they spread like wildfire, to tell Sonny how good she is, to make her believe in herself. Except now it doesn’t work, and now, it feels like it was all a lie, but Lindsey holds her through the verbal onslaught anyway.

Lindsey had no idea how deep-seeded Emily’s negative self-image was, how far those thoughts ran. All the weight of all the people who ever told her she couldn't, she wouldn't, all the weight of every time she told herself those things, it's all crushing Emily's soul. She doesn't know how to heal Emily's pain. It kills Lindsey to know how long Emily’s been hurting. It kills her even more to know that she missed it. That she did nothing about it. The regret that Lindsey feels gnaws away at her insides minute after minute, from the time she wakes up until the time she drifts off into an uncomfortable and restless sleep. And it crushes Lindsey soul to know that maybe Kelley was right. 

Her words fall on deaf ears.

_You’ve done so much for this club, Son. You are Portland._

_You’re the heart and soul of this team. We’ll never be the same without you._

_Orlando is the luckiest club in the league._

_Mark’s going to regret this. He’ll see what you meant to us._

_You're a game changer._

_You bring more intangibles to a locker room and field than anyone I’ve ever played with before, Sonny._

_This was politics. They have to keep the top athletes in the NWSL and no one wants to play for Orlando. Soph would have gone to Europe. That’s a bad look for the league. Hailie did it with Sky Blue. The league will fold if it keeps happening._

_This isn’t about you. It was never about your play. You're good, Sonny. You're so good._

* * *

Their last night in camp, when Lindsey crawls into bed and wraps Sonnett in her arms, Sonnett’s adidas cap, still on and on backwards, knocks her in the forehead. Lindsey grabs the hat off Sonnett’s head and puts it on her own. Sonnett rolls over to find it on Lindsey backwards. “You look gay.” It’s the first levity they’ve shared since the news broke the second day of camp.

“Because I _am_ gay,” Lindsey responds quietly. “I’m in love with you, too, Sonnett.”

Something flashes in Emily’s eyes that Lindsey finds unfamiliar and disconcerting. There’s a moment of silence in between them that feels like an eternity to Lindsey, who’s waiting with bated breath for her to say something – anything – back. When she does, Lindsey wishes for the quiet to return.

“You can’t just decide you’re in love with me now that you’re losing me,” Sonnett yells, pulling away from Lindsey and sitting up. “It’s not fair. It’s bullshit. You don’t get to love me just because you’re sad. Why couldn’t you have just loved me before?” her voice is almost pleading. “Why, Linds?”

Lindsey reaches for her hand and Sonnett yanks it back like Lindsey burned her. She get up off the bed, backing towards the door. “This isn’t fair. You’re not in love with me. Because if you were…” her voice fades behind her tears, and rather than finish the sentence, she turns and walks out the door. She doesn’t give Lindsey a chance to explain, and through her own tears, she recognizes Emily doesn’t owe her the chance to explain. 

Half an hour later, her phone dings, a text from Kelley.

 **KO** : Why is Sonnett back in her room and why does it look like she’s been crying again?

 **Linds** : Because I told her I love her too.

 **KO** : Motherfucker. I’m going to kill you.

Lindsey turns off her phone. She can’t deal with Kelley too. Not tonight. She falls asleep waiting, hoping that Emily will come back eventually.

* * *

She doesn’t.

When Lindsey wakes up in the morning, Sam is in the other bed, and when Lindsey knocks on the door to Sonnett’s room, Kelley musters all the restraint she has left in her, only there because Christen dragged her out in the hall to talk to her last night, to tell Lindsey that Sonnett took an earlier flight home. Lindsey doesn’t believe her. She pushes into the room, knocking Kelley back into the door. But Kelley’s not lying. Sonnett’s bags are gone. 

Emily's gone.

And this was all her fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Finished with the 5 part. That took for-freaking-ever. Sorry bout it. But looking forward to the +1 and beyond. Let me know what y’all think.


	7. Dasani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very public post, that reads suspiciously like a love letter, was always a risky move, especially when it was written for someone as private as Sonnett.

_Dasani_

_Firstly, I never thought I'd ever have to play against you and I knoww you'll 100% be my least favorite player to play against.  
_ _You're a loony but it's what makes you so special and something I will miss so much.  
_ _I never thought we'd be separated...  
_ _well, except when we let Sam and Pinoe scored a few too many goals off_ _our 1-2s out of the back._ _Whoops.  
_ _I'll miss our stupid fights, your hip swivels, our healthy eating,_ _you coming to pick me up even though I have a 2 min walk to the stadium,  
_ _your antics on the field, watching movies we don't actually watch,_ _playing switch but never ever forever playing it again (ever),_  
 _when we were deathly ill during the 2017 final,_ _sleepovers, and just playing w/ my friend.  
_ _It won't feel the same w/o you._ _So much love for you and I'm gonna miss you so much. 😞_

_-Linessi_

“Why would you post that?” 

Emily’s voice so unlike what Lindsey’s come to know and love. That kinda deep, kinda scratchy sound that’s music to her ears. That voice that rises in tenor when she’s being silly and can squeal with laughter, even at her own jokes. Today, it carries the same tone as last night. Angry. Exhausted. Close to defeat. 

But she called. And that’s something. 

Emily feels the shakiness in her words as she tries to remain composed. As she tries not to yell. Last time they talked, she yelled, and even though in that moment she felt like Lindsey deserved her raised voice, she’s felt bad about it ever since. She yells when she’s mad. It feels like one of those things that she can’t change about herself. But she _doesn’t_ yell at Lindsey, except now she has, twice in one week. And for the most part, it’s ok, she knows this. Because Lindsey has the same fire in her – the fire that makes it impossible to control her emotions in the moment. But it’s never an indication of their true feelings, not when it comes each other at least. It doesn’t make her feel any less shitty about it though.

Lindsey didn’t think Emily would talk to her for a long time after the way she stormed out last night. There was this tiny piece of her that wondered if maybe Emily wouldn’t talk to her ever again after what Lindsey had put her through. She'd take an angry Emily over silence any day. If she was angry, it meant there was still hope because she still cared enough to be mad. 

“You walked out and wouldn’t talk to me. And you left this morning and wouldn’t answer your phone. And because I love you. Not because you’re leaving. Not because I’m going to miss you. I mean, I am going to miss you like crazy,” Lindsey rambles, “but that’s not why. I posted it because I mean every word of it and because I’m in love with you, damnit. So you needed to hear that. Or read it. Whatever.” Lindsey hates being like this. She feels like she sounds whiney. She _knows_ she’s vulnerable. It doesn’t matter how many times she says it. Emily’s hurting because of the trade and hurting because of Lindsey and there’s no guarantee that all the sincerity in the world – or a sappy Instagram post – will make any difference at this point. 

Several minutes tick by without Emily saying anything. She sits there on the concrete floor of her condo, rubbing her finger over the cold smoothness, and thinks about how she needs to get some rugs still. That probably should have been a priority; the floor is cold. This place seemed like a good idea when she saw it with her realtor – all trendy and industrial – but now that the chill is setting in, she’s not so sure. It’s easy to let her mind wander, easier than trying to form words. Because what her brain is trying to make her say and what her heart is telling her are two completely different things. She’s more conflicted than she’s been since she first realized her lack of interest in boys was because she was _super_ into girls. Her focus shifts to the bubble wrap on the floor beside her. The bubble wrap that had protected a mug with a picture of her and Lindsey on it. The same fucking picture Lindsey had posted. Providence Park. Arms outstretched. Lindsey’s chin tipped down with this shy smile. The memory of what came next comes flooding back. 

When Emily left Portland in October to come back to Georgia, she didn’t pack much to bring to her new condo. Clothes, shoes, things like that, but she was supposed to go back home. Atlanta was supposed to be “home,” but Portland was her real home because Lindsey was there. It occurs to her that she doesn’t even have a home anymore. Not really. Not in the sense of the word that she had formed over the past four years. She picks it up and starts popping it intentionally. That mug’s not going to Orlando. Orlando will never be home, so she doesn’t need the bubble wrap anymore. 

She planned on buying new dishes and small appliances, new sheets and towels, new plants to furnish this new place for the few months out of the year she’d live here. But out of all the things she could have brought with her, she brought the mug because it was her favorite mug. And fucking Lindsey just had to choose her fucking favorite photo for that fucking post. Because Lindsey knows it’s her favorite photo. It’s her favorite because they won it all that year. They felt invincible. It’s her favorite because she can see Lindsey’s face. She doesn’t need to see her own. Lindsey _knows_. She knows everything there is to know about Emily. She feels the smile tugging at her lips and hurting her cheeks every time she looks at that photo. It’s her favorite because that year… that year almost could have changed their lives.

“Son?” Lindsey voice sounds like a scared child. “Are you still there?”

She wants to yell all over again. Or at least be a dick. But she doesn’t have the heart or the energy for either. “You- you didn’t call me back,” Emily says hoarsely, fighting back tears all over again. If she had tricked herself into believing that she was over Lindsey’s lack of response to her New Year’s Eve confession, it was only temporary.

“Because I was scared,” Lindsey mumbles. And it’s lame, she knows. Because Emily took the risk first. Except she had liquid courage on her side. Lindsey had nothing on hers, just the disappointment people in her life might feel and a big dose of fear of the unknown. 

“And you’re not scared now?” Emily asks, lying back on her floor, resigned to being cold, too drained to even pull herself up onto her couch. At least she had furniture delivered in the few days she had between closing on the place and heading into camp.

“I’m terrified. More than ever. Of not having you here with me. Of losing you. Most of all, of losing our friendship,” Lindsey quietly admits.

“You’ll never lose me, Linds.”

“If I fuck up, I will. I fuck up a lot.”

‘You don’t. Not when you listen to your heart at least. Your heart has never led you astray.” Her brain has, her fear has, her expectations have, but not her heart. Most of the time though, Lindsey’s not very good at listening to her heart, and Sonnett knows this. It’s why she was patient for so long. Sonnett lets out a very audible sigh. She’s knows how absolutely pathetic she is. She shouldn’t think it. She shouldn’t lack so much self-respect. She certainly shouldn’t say it out loud. “You’re never going to lose me. Not if you cheat on me, not if you go back to him, not if- ”

“I wouldn’t,” Lindsey interrupts, and she means it. But she also knows her words are probably not believable because she’s gone back to him over and over, so there’s no reason for Emily to trust that she wouldn’t again. And yet, even with that knowledge, Emily was still willing to take a chance on them.

“But _if_ you did.” Emily hates herself for saying it, but it’s the fucking truth, and it’s not like she can lie to Lindsey. “You’re never losing me as a friend.”

“You don’t know that. People don’t stay friends when they break up.”

“We would.”

Lindsey feels herself choking up. “Promise?” she squeaks out. 

“Yes, I promise.” Sonnett tries hard not to sound annoyed. It’s not even that she’s annoyed with Lindsey. She’s more annoyed with herself. For being so hard on Lindsey. For being so hopelessly in love. And she’s just so damn exhausted. It all feels like it’s too much, one more thing to bear right now. Helping Lindsey lift all of her emotional baggage, too. Trying not to think about the fucking trade. Because right now, avoidance is all she can handle on that front. There’s a knock on her door. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“What?”

“Someone’s at my door,” she whispers.

“Why are you whispering?” Lindsey whispers back.

“Because I don’t want them to know I’m here.”

“They can probably hear your music.”

Sonnett rolls over but doesn’t get up. “I didn’t order anything. If I just wait, they’ll go away.”

“Just open the door, Dasani.”

With an exaggerated groan, Sonnett drags herself to her feet to go find whatever cookie or singing telegram delivery Emma has probably sent her to cheer her up after news of the trade. If only she knew about Lindsey, Sonnett thought, she would have just come over with beer. Maybe when she gets off the phone with Lindsey, she’ll see if Emma can come hang out after work. She doesn’t really want to be alone tonight. 

Not when Lindsey’s confession keeps playing in her mind. 

_Because I am gay._

_I’m in love with you too, Sonnett._

Not when Marc’s words keep playing in her mind.

_I’m sorry we’re didn’t get a chance to bring you in and tell you in person. This was so last minute. Emily, we really tried hard to keep you. We didn’t want things to go this way, but…_

But seems like the word that has defined her life.

_I like you too, but… I have a boyfriend. I’m not like that._

_You performed really well, but… we’re looking at someone else for that center back spot._

_You’ve progressed a lot but… you’ll be an alternate for Rio._

_We’ve really enjoyed having you in camp, but… there are some things you’ll need to improve upon if you want to keep getting called up. For now, we’re going to go in another direction._

_You’ve made the roster, but… you’re here for the experience. I need you to understand that you’re not going to get minutes._

_I love you too, but…_

But just might be the most exhausting, most painful word in the English language, Emily thinks.

* * *

Lindsey got to the airport late that morning and changed the flight that US Soccer had booked her. She couldn’t bring herself to go home, couldn’t bring herself to give up, not just yet anyway. She wanted to show Sonnett that she could be the person in her life who would never give up on her.

Three hours later, she was on a plane to Atlanta. She spent the time in the Tampa airport trying not to cry as she carefully crafted a post describing all the things she was going to miss about her best friend. She spent the hour and a half flight watching the likes and comments roll in, but none of them mattered because none were Sonny’s. The lady next to her kept asking if she was ok because she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely after awhile. She almost swiped away at Kelley’s string of texts that came through as she was in the back of an Uber, unable to deal with another round of getting bitched at, but curiosity and self-loathing get the best of her.

**KO** : Quite the love letter you wrote her.  
Mal said you weren’t on her flight.  
Guess that’s why Rose kept bugging me   
for Sonnett’s address.  
Don’t break her heart.  
Because I stg I will make it my mission.   
to destroy you if you hurt her.  
But good luck.  
I know you’re in love with her.  
Sorry I said you weren’t.  
And I don’t think there’s anything that’ll   
convince her to stop loving you.  
So I’m rooting for y’all because I’m   
rooting for her.

Lindsey had been biding her time, sitting out in the cold at one of the café tables scattered around Sonnett’s complex for over an hour, trying to get up the courage to do something – anything – after it became clear that Sonnett wasn’t going to comment on it. Or even like it. Or probably even text her. She hadn’t really thought it through completely. She knew Sonnett wasn’t in Marietta – Emma had confirmed that – but she didn’t know what she’d do if Sonnett didn’t answer the phone or her door when she finally got the courage to try again. But then the defender called, voice strained with anger. And that was enough for Lindsey to get up and go knock on Sonnett’s door. There was always an Uber back to the airport and a flight back to Denver if worst came to worst.

* * *

Sonnett’s mouth drops and she blinks a few times, because she thinks she’s seeing things but also to keep the tears at bay. “How did you?” she starts. “I didn’t… I didn’t give you my address. I just closed on this place right before camp.” 

There are bags under her eyes. Her cheeks look hollower than they did even yesterday. Lindsey just wants to wrap her up in a hug and protect her from everything bad in the world. But she doesn’t because they’re not there yet. “I asked Tobin and she asked Christen and Christen asked Mal and Mal asked Rose and Rose asked Kelley. And- ”

“And I gave it to Kelley because she said if I didn’t let her order groceries for me she’d text Emma and then bring groceries over herself.” Lindsey stands there, hands tucked into her sleeves, nose and cheeks bright red from the cold. “You can come in,” Sonnett mutters, feeling sorry for her. It almost sounds like defeat, Lindsey knowing where she lives.

“Like my post,” Lindsey says just inside the doorway. Because she doesn’t know what else to say. Last time she said, “I love you,” Sonnett ran off.

“No,” Sonnett says firmly, turning around and staring Lindsey down.

“Why not?”

“Just because.” Her tone makes it clear she wants Lindsey to let it go. 

“Like my post,” Lindsey repeats, trying to sound matter-of-fact even though she knows she doesn’t. It matters to her that Sonnett acknowledge her feelings, her moment of vulnerability.

“Did you fly all the way here to get me to like your post, or what? Why do you care?” Sonnett asks, collapsing onto her couch, leaving Lindsey to eventually follow her.

“Because I wrote you a love letter,” Lindsey says quietly, eyes downcast.

“That was dumb.”

“What?” It stings, that, but Lindsey supposes it’s what she deserves.

“To write a love letter for like 20,000 people to see,” Sonnett explains. “It’s stupid.”

“More like 30,000 now.”

“You could have just told me.” Sonnett picks at her nails nervously.

“Comment on it. Say you’re going to miss me back.” 

“No. Damnit, Lindsey, you know I’m gonna miss you. I don’t need to put it out there. Drop it.” That comes out a little more harshly than Sonnett intended it, she can tell by the way Lindsey’s face falls. She lets out a big sigh. Despite everything, Lindsey sits down on the couch too, on the opposite end. Sonnett looks her over. She looks tired too. Sad. She immediately misses the brightness of Lindsey’s eyes and the way they crinkle when she smiles. She can’t keep doing this, being mad at Lindsey, trying to resist her. “How bout I like you instead?” Sonnett offers quietly. “Would you drop it then?”

“No, I already know you like me.” That little bit of confidence coming back to Lindsey’s voice makes the tiniest of grins touch Sonnett’s lips. 

“Well what if I do this?” Sonnett closes the gap across the couch between them. Her fingers play along Lindsey’s cheek and Lindsey leans into it. She always envisioned, if they ever kissed again, that Lindsey would be the one to kiss her. She’d have to be. Especially after the (drunken) confession of love. Like it needed to be on Lindsey’s terms and Lindsey needed to be sure because Lindsey was the one who didn’t know where she stood and what she felt and who she was. Except she does. She showed up at Sonnett’s doorstep and she posted this completely unnecessary thing and she said it. She said “I love you.” More than once. To Sonnett when it was just the two of them. And even after Sonnett walked away, she basically said it for the whole of fucking Instagram to see. There’s no way she be mad at Lindsey for taking so long to figure things out, for being scared. It’s not like loving a woman is an easy thing to come to terms with. It’s not like it isn’t something Sonnett had battled with herself. 

They’ve never been on the same page at the same time, and Sonnett knows that’s just as much her fault as it is Lindsey’s. She stares into Lindsey’s green eyes, knowing that this time it’s different, this time, there’s no taking it back, no forgetting about it. She’s sure about this, surer than she’s ever been about anything, but she doesn’t want to rush it. Sure, but still has that thought in the back of her mind that this isn’t real, that this isn’t the start of her getting to kiss Lindsey whenever she wants. Sure, but still very aware that this kiss is going to change everything about them and their lives. If this happens, all they can do is hope for the best because they’re both far beyond the point of being able to change the way they feel. And the bad timing of it all, the wasted time, Hawaii, the trade, none of it seems to matter anymore.

Lindsey’s stomach drops as Sonnett finds her hand without even looking, running her thumb across Lindsey’s wrist before settling on her pulse point. She leans in and pulls Lindsey the rest of the way to her. Lindsey’s dizzied by the blurriness of Emily’s face too close to her, or maybe just by Emily, too close to her. The kiss is so much better than last time, soft, just tiny sips at first, and then slowly building. She hates how good Sonnett is at it – because she missed out on this feeling for so long and because it flashes in her mind that Sonnett probably has a lot of practice. But then Sonnett’s parting her lips, making her forget everything, and she has to grip Sonnett’s forearms as the older woman’s tongue tickles the roof of her mouth because it makes her dizzy all over again. There’s no other way to explain the feeling of chemistry that surges all the way through her except they’re a match. This is the woman she wants, now and forever. Sonnett is her person, has been her person no matter how much she’s tried to fight it.

Sonnett, breathless, finally pulls away. “What are you thinking about?” she asks, searching Lindsey’s eyes, like she can sense her mind’s moving a hundred miles an hour. 

Lindsey wants to say “nothing,” but she knows she’s never going to be able to get away with that again. She feels suddenly shy, put on the spot by her best friend. She plows through anyway. “You’re the best kisser and you’re so forgiving and this moment feels like magic and…” the look Sonnett’s giving her makes her realize she’s rambling. “You’re it for me, Dasani,” Lindsey caresses the older woman’s cheek. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but I’ll prove it to you.”

Sonnett blushes. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.” And then she gets that child-like grin on her face. “You misspelled know. You added an extra w.”

 _You’ve gotta be kidding me_ , Lindsey thinks. “It was on purpose, like to draw out the sound.”

“Of a silent letter?”

“Shut up.” Lindsey punches her in the arm.

“Ow. So mean,” Sonnett leans in and kisses her again, a little more playfully, with a smile she can’t keep at bay. “What was secondly?”

“Huh?” Lindsey mumbles, trying to get Sonnett’s lips focused back on hers instead of talking.

“You started it with firstly. So that means there’s a secondly. What is it?”

“Seriously?” Sonnett nods. Lindsey flops back against the armrest, tucking her cold feet under Sonnett. There really wasn’t a secondly, at least not one that could fit in that post. Or one that should go on the internet. Lindsey runs her hand through her hair nervously, not used to having to talk about her feelings. “Secondly, you’re my favorite person on the planet, and you have been since we met.”

“You mean at YNT camp?” Sonnett butts in, laughing.

Lindsey nudges her with her foot. “No. And stop interrupting or you’re not getting the second part.” Sonnett makes a motion like she’s zipping her lips shut. “You’re so special, Dasani. For so many reasons that would take all night to list.”

“We have all night though. Unless you have a flight that I don’t know about.”

“I don’t have a flight back. I didn’t know if you’d kick me out or kiss me,” Lindsey admits before continuing. “I’ve never felt so connected to someone. Like your emotions are my emotions. I feel your pain and your happiness with my whole body. I want you to be happy forever because you deserve that, and I want to be the one who makes you happy. I could pretty much live without anybody, but I can’t live without you. And I know I took advantage of how much you care about me and how you stick around through all the shit I pull, and I’m so sorry. But I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to be yours. Forever. And I want you to be mine because I love you so, so much.

“I’m sorry too,” Sonnett mumbles. “For pushing you instead of letting you figure it out when you’re ready. That wasn’t fair.”

“Sonny, you had to push me because I never would have been brave enough to figure it out on my own.” 

“You know you could have just come here and told me that you loved me and asked me if I was still in love with you. You didn’t need to post something to get my attention.”

“Oh, I came here to see if you’d forgive me. I know you’re still in love with me,” Lindsey smirks, a little cocky. “You called me all drunk and slurring in Southern and proclaimed your undying love for me,” the levity lifts the tenor of Lindsey’s voice.

“I don’t have an accent.”

“When you’re drunk, you have an accent. Come here.” Lindsey reaches for Sonnett’s hand, pulling the smaller woman on top of her. She kisses the top of Sonnett’s head and softly strokes her shoulders. “Say it again. Say it sober.”

Sonnett pushes up off of Lindsey’s chest, with a glint in her eyes. “Are you planning on being this demanding for the rest of our lives?” 

Lindsey nods enthusiastically. _Their lives_. It doesn’t phase her. It doesn’t seem too fast. It’s been years in the making. It feels more like a _finally_. 

“I love you,” she says, every bit of her expression serious again. “I’ll love you forever.”

* * *

“I could stay you know, until we have to go to Houston.” Lindsey says, later that night, Sonnett’s naked body pressed against her, wrapping Lindsey up with her limbs like she’s never going to let go. It’s a nice change from all the nights they spent together in camp, Sonnett curled up into herself and Lindsey trying to hold her through it, and from Portland when they were trying to find their way back to each other. “I’d run out of clothes, but maybe… I don’t need them?” Lindsey’s voice turns up at the end, hopeful.

“You’d wear my clothes even if you had enough,” Sonnett laughs against the bare skin of Lindsey’s back, her breath sending a little shiver through Lindsey. “You don’t want to go home?”

“I wanna spend every minute I can with you,” Lindsey manages to free herself from Sonnett just enough to roll over. “I want you to show me your city. I want you to take me on coffee dates and cook for me but I want candlelit dinners. And I want you to take me to Waffle House again because it’s like the only place that has peanut butter chips.” She kisses along Sonnett’s collarbone. “I wanna kiss you while you’re watching TV until you stop watching and pay attention to me. I wanna go see your parents and Emma and I wanna be holding your hand when you tell them I’m your girlfriend. I wanna take a million pictures that no one besides us ever gets to see so that when I have to go back to Portland, I can look at them when I’m sad and be happy again. And I wanna eat all the avocado toast with you because I never want to eat it without you ever.” She nuzzles into the hollow of Sonnett’s neck, almost lulled to sleep by the way Sonnett’s fingers glide across her back, barely there. “I wanna watch your face when you tell me you love me, the way it changes. Your eyes get so soft and your cheeks relax, but your eyebrows scrunch up when you say it, and it’s so much better than just hearing it through the phone.”

“Demanding,” Sonnett says, pulling her in closer. But she secretly, or maybe not so secretly, loves it. She’ll take demanding Lindsey every day for the rest of her life and still feel like the luckiest person on Earth. 


	8. Gettin' You Home (Epilogue part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was never any doubt, not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this was supposed to be done now, because epilogue, right? But it's like 8000 words. And that's too much for my attention span. Therefore, it's now a two-part epilogue, because I don't like following rules.

_Walking through the front door,  
Seein' your black dress hit the floor,  
Uh Honey there sure ain't nothin',  
Like you lovin' me all night long.  
_ _And all I can think about  
_ _Is gettin' you home._

**January, 2023**

“Yo, Linds! Wake up!” Sonnett watches Lindsey roll over and stretch. She loves the little grumbles and groans that escape her lips because she is grumpy as fuck in the morning. She loves the way Lindsey’s raised arms expose a sliver of skin across her abdomen that she can lean down and kiss – normally – but not right now with her hands full. That’s frustrating. She loves the way Lindsey’s whole body vibrates with the newness of the day. Her eyes flutter, but barely open, and she squints against the sunlight streaming in through the window. “Hurry up!” Sonnett shouts, startling her the rest of the way awake. There’s wax dripping on the cake she made, and she’s not about to have it ruined.

Lindsey sits up halfway, leaning on the pillows against the headboard as Sonnett sits down on the edge of the bed, holding the cake carefully. “Why is there a birthday cake in our bed?” she yawns.

“Anniversary cake,” Sonnett corrects her. “And this is my bed.”

She doesn’t really mean it. Everything has become theirs. Her game shorts are Lindsey’s; she can’t count the number of times the equipment manager has glared at her when she’s walked into his office after a long weekend to tell him she’d need another pair made before the next game. Her food is their food, because Lindsey is always so indecisive about ordering that she needs to try what Emily ordered, too. Lindsey usually likes Emily’s better; when she does, they end up switching plates. Her bed is Lindsey’s and her shower is Lindsey’s and her couch is Lindsey’s because her loft is Lindsey’s. Lindsey said as much when she took it upon herself to invite Mal and Dansby and Kelley and Kam to _their_ place for Friendsgiving the past two years. Sometimes, like now, Emily teases her about it, but the truth is, she loves it. Besides, Lindsey’s condos in Denver and Portland feel like hers too, thankfully, because it means that Portland still gets to feel like home. Sometimes, Emily doesn’t know where she ends and Lindsey begins, and she’s fine with that because she thinks that’s maybe how it’s supposed to go when you’re _this_ in love with someone. She doesn’t feel like she’s lost herself in any of it, but rather found a lasting peace in the security that Lindsey provides.

“Happy anniversary to us, happy anniversary to us, happy anniversary my love, happy anniversary to us,” Sonnett sings to her, like she does every year. Sometimes, it’s after a knock on the door at a hotel wherever they’re in camp. One time it was on the phone, an ocean between them. And times like today, when they’re lucky, it’s in person. And in person comes with baked goods, apparently. 

Lindsey blows out the three candles, and Emily sets the cake down on the comforter so she can hook her fingers beneath her girlfriend’s jaw and guide her in for a kiss. Kissing Lindsey will never get old, Emily thinks. It’s not just because she can’t do it all the time with the distance that’s sometimes (often) between them. It’s not even how long it took them to finally get there. It’s because it’s _Lindsey_. With all her flaws and surprises, big untamed emotions and tenderness that she reserves just for Emily, Emily can’t imagine ever loving her less.

* * *

The past three years have been a whirlwind, and not always in a good way. They thought the trade was the beginning and end of their drama. That year had other plans. They were never supposed to be apart as long as they were. They were never supposed to have to be on two different continents. Spending almost the entire first year of their young relationship with only FaceTime to communicate was a challenge, one made even bigger by time zones. 

To the Colorado native, it was just another series of tests. Peaks to summit. Paris. Canada. Injuries. Add the whole of fucking 2020 to the list. 

Emily perseverated on the idea that the universe was trying to tell them that they weren’t meant to be. The emotions were a bigger test for them than the distance ever was. Emily came so close to breaking every time something new went wrong. Delayed season. No season. Tournament. Positive tests. Maybe a fall season. Those long nights filled with doubt on the opposite sides of the country from each other turned into long nights filled with doubt on opposite sides of the world. Finally, Emily choked out that she thought Lindsey should start dating other people, that it wasn’t fair for her to be alone back in Portland when Emily chose Sweden. 

Lindsey shut that down real quick. “When I told you I loved you, I didn’t mean only when things were easy; I meant through all the hard times, too. When I told you I loved you, I didn’t mean for a little while; I meant forever. And when I told you I loved you, I meant from no matter where we are in the world, whether you’re right next to me or 5000 miles away. We decided on this together, Em. I don’t want to go to Tokyo without you. You’re sacrificing for us, to get playing time to keep your roster spot, and it fucking sucks, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here to FaceTime with you at breakfast, before training, and bedtime.” (Which conveniently worked out to Emily’s dinner, bedtime, and unnecessarily early alarm.)

It wasn’t easy for them, but Lindsey loved her through it, like only she could. Or maybe only because Emily, who hated needing anyone for anything, finally found someone she trusted enough to let in. They grew closer as the distance between them increased, and the good news was, once they got through that year’s worth of an absolute rollercoaster of emotions, they both felt like they could get through anything.

Together.

The following year brought the Olympics, and thankfully, a lot more time in the same places. It also brought injuries and frustrations, unbridled emotions and fear, but by then, they just _knew_. None of the external stuff was ever going to be as important as what they had. They fell into a groove that worked for them, appreciated all the time they got together more than they ever would have without the challenges they had faced early on, and now, they were less than six months away from going back to another World Cup.

Together.

* * *

Sonnett produces two forks and settles into the crook of Lindsey’s arm, cake between them. It was absolutely worth it to sneak out of bed when it was still dark out and bake this small, three-tier masterpiece with real cream cheese icing. Boxed cake mix is acceptable; fake canned icing is not.

Lindsey giggles at her. “We’re just gonna eat it like this?”

“Cutting it, plates, ugh, so much effort. Yes,” Sonnett replies, a little dramatic. Lindsey snuggles her closer. “Come on, try it.”

“Cake for breakfast,” Lindsey mutters, shaking her head. “This a double workout day?” But she digs her fork in. “Oh my god, it’s funfetti!” she cackles, mocking Sonnett.

“Hey this is my anniversary, too! Went with my fave, not yours,” she grins, smearing some icing on the bridge of Lindsey’s nose. “Anyway, did you listen to our playlist? Do you want me to turn on the Arsenal game? What’d you get me?” The passage of time certainly hasn’t improved her ability to focus. 

“I cannot believe I’ve put up with you for three years!” Lindsey rolls her eyes and ignores the icing. “You just woke me up, so no, I haven’t listened to anything. Yes, turn the game on. And I didn’t get you anything.” That’s a lie. “But I’m taking you to dinner. Nikolai’s Roof.”

“Fancy! Seeing you dressed up counts as a gift. Not surprised you picked a French place.”

“It’s Russo-French.”

“And you’re going to order borscht, I suppose?”

“Well, no, I don’t even know what that- ”

“Uh-huh. You're so predictable. I don’t know what we would do without me. Your life would be soooo boring.” Sonnett plants a loud smack on her cheek. 

“You can’t even not insult me on our anniversary?” Lindsey sighs playfully.

“No,” Sonnett replies, keeping a straight face. “It’s how I show my love.”

 _Ok_ , Lindsey thinks to herself. _Fine_. She tucks her head into Sonnett’s shoulder, wiping the icing that’s been sitting on her nose off on the fabric of her precious shirt.

“Heeeeyyy!” Sonnett squeals. “This shirt was clean!”

“Well, now it’s dirty. Like my face. Guess you’ll have to take that fancy grey tee off.” Lindsey snakes her hands under the shirt and along Sonnett’s ribs, relishing in the warmth of her skin and the goose bumps that follow everywhere her fingers touch.

Sonnett doesn’t need any help, or convincing, to get undressed. “You’re face is about to be a whole lot dirtier,” she winks.

“You are so crude!”

“You love my dirty mouth,” Sonnett grins, lifting her shirt over her head to reveal abs that still make Lindsey weak and those perfectly pert nipples that make her wet on sight.

“Fuck,” Lindsey mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that, Miss Horan?” she asks, pushing Lindsey back down into the bed. “What exactly did you think would happen when you went there?”

*****

“So seriously, do we not have any plans for today?” Emily curls herself against Lindsey’s naked body, perfectly content to stay right there until the need for something besides carbs forces her out of bed. Besides, now they have to rewind the game and start it over.

“Nope. I mean, we can get up and work out in a little bit, I guess, but we don’t have any real plans til dinner at 5.”

“Why so early? That the only reservation you could get? Shoulda used my name. I’m more famous down in these parts that you are. They were like ‘The Great Horan? Is that some washed up wrestler?’ probably. And then they were like, ‘Nope, sorry, we don’t have an 8pm.”

Lindsey rolls her eyes. She made the reservations ages ago. She could have made the reservation for any time she wanted. “Because we have plans _after_ dinner,” she explains.

“What plans?” Sonnett wants to know.

“Plans right back here,” Lindsey pinches her side playfully.

“Working out is cancelled,” Sonnet decides, and Lindsey’s not going to argue with that. She’s down with staying in bed all day. “Cake for breakfast, sex, soccer, fancy dinner, more sex. Linds, this might be the best anniversary we’ve ever had! We’re definitely not gonna ruin it by getting out of bed to workout.”

If Sonny only knew how much better the day is about to get.

*****

“Oh fucking hell…” It’s Sonnett’s turn to struggle with finding words when she finally sees what Lindsey’s wearing. That little black dress that Lindsey _knows_ drives her crazy. The one with the plunging neckline, that she’s paired with a v-shaped pendant (of course she has) because it’s specifically intended to draw the eye down. It does it’s job brilliantly. There are a hundred things Sonnett loves about the months she gets to have Lindsey here with her; seeing her walk out of the bedroom dressed up is by far one of her favorites. She takes a deep breath at the realization of just how long dinner is going to grind on with Lindsey looking like that. “You know, we don’t have to go to dinner, right? We can just stay here,” Sonnett gets up off the couch. “I can help you outta that dress and we can go right back to bed.” She rubs Lindsey’s arms almost trying to warm them preemptively. “It’s cold out. You’re gonna freeze in that thing.”

"I like it when you wear your hair like that," Lindsey ignores her and then turns around. She makes it seem like it’s easy to resist her girlfriend, even when it’s not. She bites her lip as she feels Sonnett’s hands on her body. “I have a coat. Zip me up, please,” she says, steadying her voice. 

Well that just makes things worse for Sonnett. Lindsey’s bare back, tanned, always, even in winter, is almost irresistible as Sonnett brushes Lindsey’s hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zipper. That only serves to make Lindsey’s broad, muscular shoulder, Sonnett’s favorite body part, more visible. She can’t help but trace the cuts with her fingertips. Her hands find Lindsey’s hips and her lips find the side of Lindsey’s neck. Lindsey shivers at the warm puff of breath against her skin. “You look incredible in that dress, but as soon as we get back here, it’s gonna end up on the floor.”

“K,” she murmurs, closing her eyes and leaning back into Sonnett. She can’t help that a little part of her wishes that exact thing could actually happen in a few hours, Emily slowly lowering that zipper and guiding her dress to the floor, her hands running along every inch of Lindsey’s body. A little (maybe big) part of her wants to call the restaurant and cancel, and she might actually do it, if she didn’t have several dozen people scheduled to be in the condo shortly. Besides, Lindsey’s nothing if not goal oriented. Her mind drifts to trying to find some rational reason why she got _this_ lucky to be able to call this woman hers; it’s been three years and she’s yet to figure out what she did to deserve Emily Sonnett. She used to ask Emily how she got so lucky, but it would devolve into a “No, I’m the lucky one. I love you more. No, I love you more,” argument that always ended with laughter and tickling and kissing. She gave up questioning and figured she’d just have to accept that sometimes, good things happen even when you can’t explain why. But in moments like this, when everything is right in her world, the curiosity tends to creep back in. It’s no longer a fear that she doesn’t deserve Emily or that she’ll lose her, but sometimes, the _why_ seems important. When other good things happen in her life – victories, personal accolades, trophies – she knows why. She works hard, harder than most people are aware of. She pushes herself to the brink even when she shouldn’t. There’s a clear-cut answer and it’s that she _earned_ all those good things. There’s nothing clear-cut with Emily.

“You’re so good to me, love,” Emily whispers in her ear, like she can hear the thoughts whirring through Lindsey’s mind. “You make my life infinitely better. I love you. So much.”

* * *

Lindsey fretted over how to propose, how to make tonight special, big, elaborate, but still just for them. She thinks she nailed it. Or at least hopes she did. The first part – dinner – went well, though the four-course meal felt like it dragged on forever. And it took a lot of will-power for her to not down the entire bottle of wine herself in an effort to steel her nerves for later.

She tried to stay calm during the meal. To not let on how nervous she was, because Sonnett being Sonnett would pick up on even a minute change. She giggled at Sonnett whisper-crooning country music lines to her throughout the night. 

_“Now honey you know I love you gettin’ dressed up, and you know I love showing you off, but watching your emerald green eyes dancing in the candlelight glow… All I can think about is getting you home.”_

The way her voice deepened and her accent thickened was irresistible. 

She tried to find the right amount of physicality. Not too much, because they were in public and that would tip Emily off, for sure. But she wanted to touch her. _Needed_ that physical contact to remind herself that they were still in love and that in a little while, Emily would say yes because of course she would say yes. She craved the reassurance Emily could provide without even knowing she was doing it. 

_“I don’t need this menu, no I don’t. I already know just what I want.”_

Lindsey was like 90-ish percent sure Emily would say yes. And really, that percentage should be higher, at least according to Rose, because when Rose asked Lindsey to list the reasons Emily might say no, all of her reasons were deemed ridiculous by their best friend. 

_We’re too young._ You’re both almost 30. Practically ancient in the marriage game.If Lindsey hadn’t been so stressed at the time, she would have pointed out that Rose was still single.

 _Maybe she doesn’t want to get engaged when we don’t even live in the same state._ You’re washed up enough now that the Thorns might want to get rid of you for younger blood. Request a trade. She was not washed up. Not even fucking close.

 _What if I’m not her forever?_ That one just brought uproarious laughter out of Rose. As if there was anyone else on the planet who could ever be Emily Sonnett’s forever. Or who could be Lindsey’s person, for that matter.

In fact, every single person who knew Lindsey was going to propose, which was everyone, had nothing but reassuring words for her.

 _Preath 2.0_ , Mal called them.

 _The team has more successful relationships than The Bachelor_ , Kelley reminded her. _Stop worrying_.

 _Sonnett’s been in love with you for as long as I’ve known her_ , Tobin said. 

_No one is perfect, but you two are perfect for each other_ , Jane told her in the middle of a teary-eyed hug.

 _Of course you can ask her to marry you_. Bill’s smile was big enough to stretch across the whole State of Georgia.

So really, she needn’t have worried, logically. But logic couldn’t stop her pulse from racing and it didn’t make focusing on whatever Emily was talking about with her hands flailing all over the place any easier. So her fingertips found Emily’s knee under the table and it grounded her enough to make it through dinner gracefully. 

_“Now honey I know by that look in your eyes and your hand drawing hearts on mine, that our night out of the house ain’t gonna last too long, when all you can think about is getting me home.”_

The short walk back was chilly, but Lindsey was grateful for the temperature because it kept her palm from sweating around Emily’s hand. It was nice out. The quiet allowed her to breathe. The crisp air cleared her head, at least momentarily. A starry night without a cloud in the sky, it couldn’t have been a more perfect evening for phase two, which was really the only scary part. If she could make it past that, the party already in full swing just waiting for the guests of honor, would be a breeze.

“Rooftop?” Lindsey asked when they made it to Emily’s elevator bank. Emily pressed the button without giving it a second thought, and for once, Lindsey was thankful that she wasn’t being difficult, because as cute as Emily was when she was difficult, it wouldn’t be cute in that moment. Lindsey was so tense that she felt like she was one wrong move away from snapping. And Emily's response was surprising, given how many times Emily had hinted at wanting to get her girlfriend naked as soon as possible.

Lindsey held open the heavy metal door for Emily and they stepped back outside onto the windy roof. The moment that Emily noticed the space was done up, she froze. Lindsey had spent hours arguing on the phone with Sam and Emma about how to decorate. Emma wanted a heart of rose petals and greenery added to the area, a heater and gas lamps brought in. Sam wanted flameless candles placed in the shape of a heart, at a minimum. Lindsey thought it all seemed too Bachelor-y, but she gave in to a makeshift walkway of candles and randomly scattered rose petals. In the end, none of it mattered because all she could see were the flameless flames that looked like little points of light and speckles of red everywhere behind the tears making her vision blurry. In the end, none of it mattered because she was so lost in Emily’s eyes that she couldn’t remember what the space even looked like.

But Emily’s reaction solidified her assumption that whatever Sam and Emma had done to decorate was perfection. Emily turned back to Lindsey for a moment with confused look that spread across her face, so classically Emily, and then she looked around again, taking it all in. Lindsey composed herself enough to grab Emily’s hand and lead her towards the edge of the rooftop, the glow of Atlanta’s skyscrapers almost beckoning her, and providing a perfect backdrop. The couple had spent so much time on that roof together that Lindsey had memorized the shape of the skyline and in the moment, the familiarity calmed her. 

Lindsey took both of Emily’s hands in hers, drawing the older woman’s attention back to her. The realization in Emily’s eyes after a split second was priceless. “Linds…” she murmured. It was in that moment that Lindsey lost every single word she had spent months planning to say. She had meticulously written and recited the words – in the mirror, in the car, in her head on bus rides, to Kelley over the phone, and would have to Rose too if Rose had been willing to listen – until those words were burned in her brain for eternity. Then, in an instant, a pair of grey eyes stole her breath and her words, and her mind went completely blank. 

Lindsey supposes she should be proud that she remembered to get down on one knee before she asked; she never would have forgiven herself if she had forgotten that part. In the end, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal that she forgot her entire prepared speech. Impatient always, Emily’s shriek of “Yes!” came out halfway through the only sentence Lindsey could muster: “Emily Ann Sonnett, will you marry me?” And then Lindsey was full on bawling and Emily was crying, and nothing else mattered because she said yes.

She. 

Said. 

Yes.


	9. Beautiful, Crazy (Epilogue part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forever starts now, not when we say ‘I do.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can y'all humor me and let me just have a three-part epilogue because I write too many words and then I add more words? Please and thanks? I stg I will stop after one more chapter, and it will include what Lindsey forgot to say and a their whole playlist. Also 10 is a nice round number and my self-diagnosed OCD likes it better than nine.

_She makes plans for the weekend, can't wait to go out  
'Til she changes her mind, says, "let's stay on the couch and watch TV"  
And she falls asleep_

_Beautiful, crazy, she can't help but amaze me_   
_The way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances_   
_And wears her heart on her sleeve_   
_Yeah, she's crazy but her crazy's beautiful to me_

“Linds! You just proposed to me and you’re already on your phone! Can it not wait?” Sonnett whines, without even really looking at Lindsey. She’s too busy appreciating her ring and the way the diamonds sparkle when she moves it just right to catch the moonlight, which isn’t that difficult considering how big it is. “Or did Rose bet you that I’d say no? What’d we win?”

*****

There’s that we again. It’s music to Lindsey’s ears every time. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the fact that fiercely independent Emily Sonnett, who refused to live with her in Portland the entire time they played there together, has so fully bought into the concept of we/ours/us in every aspect of their lives. 

_I can’t find our favorite hoodie. Did you pack it when you went back?_

_Does our dog miss me?_

_My parents asked about you again. Apparently, they have no interest in seeing me unless you come home, too. So can we please do Thanksgiving here and Christmas there?_

_We need more artwork on these walls. Don’t you get bored with nothing to look at when I’m not here?_

And sure, sometimes – ok, a lot of the time, actually – their we is a we that stretches across hundreds, or even thousands of miles, but in the end, Lindsey knows their path was exactly as twisty as it was supposed to be. And now, every decision they make takes the other into account, because they are a we. And, when Lindsey thinks about it, some of the hardest decisions have been made easier because they made them together 

Which is maybe what made all the decisions that led up to tonight so difficult for Lindsey; for the first time since they became a couple really, she didn’t get to talk to her best friend about any of it. Talking about it would have spoiled the surprise. So she had to choose a ring – alone. And as picky as Sonnett is, that was a stress-inducing task. But deciding on everything else she wanted, and relying on other people to make a lot of it happen, was pretty nerve-wracking, too.

At least they can plan the entire wedding together, and Lindsey reckons she’ll never have to make any big decisions by herself again ever.

*****

Lindsey rolls her eyes. “It was just the stupid motion alert on the camera. I was checking to see if the dogs were ok.” She hopes it’s convincing. She _thinks_ it’s convincing. But her heart is still pounding in her ears and she’s still so overwhelmed that she’s not really sure.

“I didn’t get a notification,” Sonnett’s brow furrows as she checks her phone. “Actually, I haven’t had one in hours. Do you really think they’re sleeping? Or did Bagel use Fergy as a footstool and find a way to knock the camera off the shelf?"

“Whatever, you know how technology is,” Lindsey lies, trying to brush it off. She’s thankful that she got a thumbs up text off to Rose, and beyond thankful that she remembered to turn the damn cameras off before they left. “Anyway, Rose said you’d say yes. I was the one that wasn’t sure.” Her voice breaks a little as she adds the last part in, unnecessarily honest, always.

The crease on Emily’s forehead deepens. “Seriously?” she asks, stepping into Lindsey’s space.

Lindsey gulps down the lump in her throat at the way Emily’s face changes, and nods sheepishly. 

“Baby, why?” For once, she doesn’t tease Lindsey, but typical Sonnett, before Lindsey can even answer, she’s rambling again. “I’m soooo sorry I made you feel like there was _any_ chance at all that I wouldn’t say yes. Because seriously, Linds, there’s was like, no way I’d say no. None. You could have asked me three years ago and I would have said yes then. Like, I only needed as much time as they have on the Bachelor to know for sure. I didn’t need _years_.” And she means that. She’s always been a believer in fate. In the idea of a soulmate. And sure, the first few years she knew Lindsey those beliefs were tested. And sure, she had times when serious doubts crept in, because it seemed like Lindsey would never return the same feelings. But she kept hoping that one day…

And one day finally came. 

“It’s not that you _did_ anything. It was just, you know, typical proposal jitters. That little _what if_ that creeps in. You get it, right? Like, if you had asked me, you would have been nervous that I might say no.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. It wouldn’t have even crossed my mind that you might say no.” If Sonnett’s confidence wasn’t so damn endearing, it would be annoying.

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you just ask me then?” Clearly, this is payback for the years she made Sonnett wait for her to figure her feelings out.

Sonnett shrugs, and then looks at the rock on her hand again. “Guess I wanted the ring.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

Sonnett shrugs again, unbothered. “You’re the one who proposed. And there are no take backs. So you’re stuck with me, darlin’. Forever starts now, not when we say ‘I do.’”

There’s no one in the entire world Lindsey would rather be stuck with, of that she is certain. She was certain years ago, too. As far as she’s concerned, forever started a long time ago. “Come on,” Lindsey tugs at her hand. “Sko.”

“No,” Emily whines, pulling Lindsey back and snuggling against her. “Just wanna stay a little longer. The stars are so perfect and you’re so perfect and this night’s so perfect.” It’s like a dream, actually. A dream she’s dreamed over and over. A dream that finally - fucking finally - came true.

Emily’s response makes Lindsey question her decision to have all of their closest people waiting one floor down, like maybe that’s going to make this night less perfect. But it’s too late now. “Cold,” she mumbles into Sonnett’s hair.

Sonnett snorts. “You’re spending so much time in Hotlanta that you’re acclimating. That’s good though. It’ll make it easier on you when you move here.”

“I am _not_ moving to Atlanta.”

“Yeah, ok.” And the way Sonnett says it, with such an air of assurance, leaves Lindsey knowing that’s she’s already lost that argument. 

Come to think of it, she can’t remember the last time she _won_ an argument. It should bother her given her personality; it doesn’t in the slightest. Years ago, she thought that this woman was going to make her the happiest person in the world – and she does – but it still amazes her how fast her focus shifted to doing everything in her power to make sure that _Emily_ was happy and knew she was loved every single day. She didn’t know she had it in her to put anyone else first – she had always been so selfish – until she woke up in Emily’s bed and realized that the happiness she felt in that moment could be her life forever if she didn’t screw it up. It was the first time in her adult life that she felt like she had a chance to actually have the same kind of love her parents did, love that she thought was so precious and so rare, she’d never find it. That morning, she promised herself and silently promised the sleeping beauty next to her that she would spend the rest of her life making Emily happy. 

She’s kept that promise.

“Can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” Emily breathes into her neck, warming her. “I wish I had some way to make you know how happy I am. Like I want you to _feel_ it, the way I feel inside. How happy you make me.”

“I think I know because you make me that happy, too.” Lindsey feels those tears welling up again, burning the edges of her eyes.

“Come on, let’s go get under the covers and I’ll warm ya up,” Sonnett gives in.

_God. If only._

When they get to Sonnett’s front door, she stands there, waiting for Lindsey to open it. “I didn’t bring my keys,” Lindsey says, leaning against the wall stubbornly.

“Lindsey, I literally said, ‘Grab your keys,’ when we were walking out the door.”

“Why would I bring my keys when we’re staying at your place?” Sometimes that distinction is important, and Lindsey uses it to her advantage when she can.

“Our place. And because you have a purse and I don’t have a purse and you won’t let me put my shit in your purse!”

“Well maybe you should carry a purse.” Lindsey raises her eyebrows at Emily, at the conversation they’ve had over and over.

“I swear to God, if this door didn’t lock automatically, we’d be robbed eventually.”

“You have pockets. Bring your damn keys when we go out.”

“Ugh. That would make my pants look less cute.”

“You are so dramatic. You’re gonna be a bridezilla. Everyone is going to think it’s me, but it’s really going to be you. Get the damn spare key and quit bitching.”

“Ew, you’re mean now that we’re engaged,” Sonnett says, scrunching up her face at Lindsey as she reaches up to grab the key on top of the light fixture, hidden for times like this. And times she has to take Bagel out in such a rush that she forgets her own keys, which she won't ever admit but is at least once a week.

Sonnett opens the door to darkness instead of the lamp she left on in the apartment in. It confuses her for a second, but she shrugs it off and wraps her arms around Lindsey’s waist as Lindsey walks in in front of her. It was probably the dogs playing and the cord got jostled loose from the outlet. " _Walking through the front door- ”_

“Em…” Lindsey tries to cut her off to no avail.

 _“Seeing your black dress hit the floor…”_ Sonnett’s helping her out of her coat and lips are on Lindsey’s neck already and it makes Lindsey hesitate.

“Sonny… you should st- ”

God, Sonny’s singing voice makes her swoon, and she knows this - obviously - but now is not the time.

_“Honey there sure ain’t nothin’ like you lovin’ me all night long. And all I can think about, is gettin’ you home.”_

Rose – it’s so clearly Rose even though they can’t see her in the darkness – can't control her snicker, which turns into a full-on laugh, that turns into Kelley cackling before Sam can even switch on the light.

And Sonnett’s left with the surprise of her life, probably a bigger surprise than Lindsey actually, finally, proposing. So many people waiting expectantly, staring at them, and then the loudest chorus of cheers and hooting and hollering and congratulations that she’s heard outside of a stadium fills her loft.

Her parents and Lindsey’s.

Both their siblings.

Two dozen former and current college, club, and national teammates.

Everyone they love who loves them enough to fly in for an engagement party that Lindsey insisted take place night of.

Sonnett can’t believe her eyes, blinking rapidly in confusion. “Linds…” Emily murmurs, dropping her arms from Lindsey’s waist and stepping forward, farther into the room. It’s almost too much to process.

“I wanted us to be able to celebrate with everyone who loves us,” Lindsey says quietly, pressing her cheek into Emily’s. She knows that realistically, they could be engaged another year, maybe two, with the World Cup and Olympics coming up. It’s too long to wait to celebrate with everyone who matters, and with people who are the reason they are together.

Sonnett breaks out in a huge grin. “Y’all! This is my fiancé!” she yells to the crowd, holding up Lindsey’s hand. “She wants to marry me! Can you believe it? I thought she'd never ask!"

Ok. She’s not mad about it. All that worry was for nothing too. Not that her brother and future sister-in-law helped to assuage her fears. 

_You’re breaking with tradition_ , Emma snipped. _An engagement party is supposed to be three months after you get engaged. There’s a certain way of doing things down here. You’re going to need to get used to it._

 _Hope she doesn’t say no, but I guess if she does, you’ll have a shit ton of alcohol to drown your sorrows with._ Mike earned himself a punch on the shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise.

As Lindsey mingles, she watches Sonnett do the same. Everyone thinks that Sonnett loves being the center of attention, but the truth is, she doesn’t. Not really. And she’s so fiercely private. Lindsey banked on tonight, on this celebration, being different, on her wanting to feel everyone’s love, and ultimately, their acceptance. But Lindsey can’t help but worry about her, yet her smile is genuine, and her shoulders are relaxed as she accepts hugs from everyone, and she looks like she’s doing ok. Better than ok. She looks happy.

“Oh my god, can you quit worrying now?” Kelley comes up from behind and squeezes her shoulder. “She said yes.”

“She said yes,” Lindsey repeats, her voice cracking in disbelief. Still.

“Told ya. I’m always right.”

“Remember when you didn’t want me to be with her?” Lindsey asks turning towards Kelley and cocking her head to one side.

“Listen…” Kelley starts, and then she’s thankful that Sonnett interrupts them, worming her way under Lindsey’s arm. “Lemme see the ring,” Kelley demands, because Lindsey wouldn’t even send her a picture of it. She didn’t want Kelley telling her what Sonnett would and wouldn’t like, critiquing her decision, not when it came to something that was going to be on Sonnett’s hand forever. Some things she just needed to do alone if she couldn’t do them with the love of her life. “Holy. Fuck!” Kelley turns to Lindsey, her mouth wide open. “Uh…” Kelley laughs, because she doesn’t really know what to say.

“What?” Lindsey asks, concerned. 

“Yeah, what?” Sonnett chimes in.

“Well, she could’ve just bought you a car. A fucking nice car.”

Lindsey narrows her eyes at Kelley. “Emma said it needed to be at least three months salary…”

“Fuck, did you include _all_ your sponsorships, too, or what?” Kelley asks.

“Maybe.”

“You listened to my sister?” Emily jumps in. “Why would you do _that_?”

“I- I- ” Lindsey stutters, looking between them. 

They both burst out laughing. Kam approaches the trio. “Hey, y’all- ”

“Stay away!” Kelley cuts her off, and the look she gives Kelley is half annoyed, half _you know I’m going to ignore you, why do you even bother?_

“Let me see the- ”

“Nope, you don’t need to see that,” Kelley cuts her off.

“Why?” Sonnett holds her hand out to Kam. Kelley throws her head back, rolling her eyes and cringing. “Mmmm,” Kam says, lips taut. “That is one hell of a ring, Sonny. You did a really good job, Linds.”

“Listen,” Kelley jumps in, knowing exactly what Kam is thinking. “You shoulda worked out a better deal with UnderArmour for me before you left. Clearly, adidas is taking care of her.”

“Clearly,” Kam muses, raising her eyebrows, and she throws her arm over Kelley’s shoulder, kissing her temple softly.

“Well what’d you think of her pouring her heart out to you, Son? Can you believe this one wrote that whole thing by herself?” Lindsey’s unable to get Kelley’s attention to stop her in time. 

“What are you talking about?” Emily asks, and Lindsey buries her face in her hands.

“She like, prepared that whole thing for you.” Sonnett scrunches her eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh. Ooohhh.” Kelley bursts out laughing again. “So, like… ok,” she sputters. _Classic Lindsey._ She doesn't even know why she's surprised _._

“She just asked me if I would marry her…”

“Ok, cool,” Kelley shrugs. “Clearly, you said yes so.”

“Wait, but…” Sonnett turns to Lindsey. “Were you gonna say more?” Sonnett pries Lindsey’s hands off her face, and holds them gently.

“I mean, yeah, I had kinda planned to say a little more than like one sentence, but, um, I made the mistake of looking in your eyes and they made me forget. It’s really not my fault. You’re just so beautiful. I love your eyes. And I love _you_ so much. And maybe it’s stupid, I know it’s been three years, but you still make me forget my words sometimes because I see you and I just love you so much it’s overwhelming.”

Sonnett kisses Lindsey softly, mumbling “I love you,” against her lips. God, how she loves this woman, and all her quirks and imperfections, insecurities and forgetfulness, her temper and her passion and all the things she knows and doesn’t know, the things she learns and resists learning, the stubbornness, the selflessness. The way her eyes crinkle when she smiles and sparkle when they’re wet with tears. Just like they are right now. The way she dips her chin down and scrunches her nose in quick succession three times every time she tries to fight back said tears, like she is again now. The way she squeezes Sonnett’s hand when _she’s_ the one who actually needs reassurance.

“Ahem. Excuse me, quieten down, quieten down,” Kelley’s voice carries over the din of people milling about the space. “Lindsey had this long speech prepared for Sonnett as part of her proposal, and she forgot the whole thing, so we’re going to give her a chance to at least say _something_ … and introduce a special someone who’s here tonight.”

Lindsey flicks Kelley off before she realizes there are _other_ people there. “Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Sonnett,” she says guiltily, “don’t take your permission back.”

“Are you kidding me!” Emily cuts in. “You asked them if you could marry me?” 

“Of all the outdated, sexist things- ” Kelley starts.

“Well- well- Emma said that- that- Brooks asked,” Lindsey stutters.

“I’m gonna kill you, Emma,” Sonnett yells across her living room at her sister, to a roar of laughter.

“Seriously, Linds?” Christen jumps in. “If Tobin had asked my dad for permission to marry me, I would have absolutely _not_ married her.”

“How do you forget a whole speech?” Mal rolls her eyes.

“I’m can’t believe I’m getting harassed at my own engagement party. You’re not gonna defend me?” she asks Emily helplessly.

Sonnett shakes her head. “I didn’t get a to hear all the reasons why you love me and want to marry me, so no.”

“Are y’all planning on doing this at my wedding, too?” Lindsey asks in a resigned voice that is really just proof this kind of thing happens to her all the time. 

“This and more,” Rose informs her with an evil grin. “This is nothing. Just some light teasing. You should know that by now.”

“Anyway,” Lindsey draws out the word as she shakes her head and tries to ignore her friends. “I have something important to say for real so whenever y’all want to let me talk….”

A chorus of _speech, speech, speech_ starts up, thanks to Kelley. 

Lindsey’s addressing the whole room, technically, but she takes Emily’s hands in hers and Emily is the only one she’s talking to. Emily loves the way Lindsey’s eyes burn into her soul, the way all of Lindsey’s attention is on her, like no one else exists. She tugs Emily a little, purposely trying to angle her in a way to divert her attention away from upstairs. But she can’t bring herself to say everything that she thought she would say in this moment, either. 

This time, it’s not because she forgot. This time, it’s because it seems too private. Besides, she doesn’t think anyone will get it like the two of them do, not even their closest friends. In her head, she fast-forwards past everything and stops on this.

“So, a couple years ago, I was here visiting her, and she dragged me to a country show, because,” Lindsey starts to mimic Emily, “‘Oh my god,’… wait, who was it, babe?”

“Jason Aldean.”

“Because ‘Oh my god, Jason Aldean’s playing and he’s my favorite!’ Now, side note, I couldn’t name a single Jason Aldean song, so really, I don’t think he was her favorite. And I thought to myself, I don’t even get enough time with this girl, I’ve only got a day and a half with her, and now I’ve gotta go spend like five hours in the Georgia heat and humidity at an outdoor concert. In July. For some country singer I don’t even know. And I don’t even like country music. Or, I didn’t at the time. It’s grown on me, I guess because she's grown on me or something. But in case any of you are wondering how much I love this woman, let me repeat that. July. Georgia. Outside. _Hours_.” Sonnett snickers. “Anyway, I don’t remember a single Jason Aldean song from that night; it was the opening act that got me. Luke Combs sang a song that, I swear to god, if I didn’t know better, I would bet an absolutely obscene amount of cash that he wrote it about Emily Sonnett. Like, it just hit me in the gut it was so her.”

Lindsey nods up to Sonnett’s loft, which Sonnett hadn’t paid a bit of attention to since they walked in, too focused on all her friends and family in her living room and kitchen. 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” Sonnett gasps, following Lindsey’s eyes. She starts bouncing up and down like a child unable to contain the excitement she’s buzzing with. Lindsey squeezes her hand, trying to refocus her. “Luke Combs is inside our condo!” she hisses though her teeth like Lindsey doesn’t already know this. Like it’s a big secret and he’s going to disappear if he hears her talking about him.

“Yes, baby, he is,” Lindsey chuckles. “So when I decided I was going to propose to her, I knew he had to be a part of this night. Em, I found the perfect song to add to the playlist that is our life,” she whispers. It’s so perfect that Lindsey is pretty sure she won’t add another song ever again because it can’t be topped, and she doesn’t believe in messing with perfection. “I’ll never be able to put what I feel for you in words like he can, so I’m going to shut up now and let Luke Combs take over.” She wraps her arms around Emily’s waist as the beginning of the guitar chords fill the space.

 _Her day starts with a coffee and ends with a wine,_ _  
Takes forever gettin’ ready so she’s never on time for anything.  
When she gets that ‘come get me’ look in her eyes,  
Well it kinda scares me, the way that she drives me wild.  
When she drives me wild._

Halfway through the song, Emily has turned around in her arms and lays her head on Lindsey’s chest. Lindsey hates dancing; it doesn’t stop her from swaying to the music with her fiancé tonight. She doesn’t hate it as much as she used to.

_Beautiful. Crazy.  
She can’t help but amaze me.  
The way that she dances,  
Ain’t afraid to chances,  
And wears her heart on her sleeve.  
Yeah, she’s crazy,  
But her crazy’s beautiful to me._

When that final chord is strummed, Emily looks up at Lindsey and her chin is quivering. She feels like her mind is jumbled with a million things and she can’t say any of them. Maybe how Lindsey felt up on that rooftop. Thankfully, Lindsey does it for her. “I love you, Emily Sonnett.” The kiss she leaves on Emily’s lips lingers just long enough that Emily has enough time to wish it would never end. But then Lindsey’s pulling away and acting as the perfect hostess. 

“Y’all enjoy the alcohol, as long as you took an Uber here. I put Kelley in charge of beverages, so I know there’s plenty. Enjoy the music, because Luke’s gonna stay here and play for us for a little while longer, but please, stay as long as you want, even if she crashes early,” Lindsey grins down at Emily. “Don’t forget about brunch tomorrow morning at The Brasserie at 11:30. Really hope y’all can make it because I reserved the entire dining room upstairs. And I know I said it to each of you before, but seriously, thank you for being part of our special day and for coming all the way out here to celebrate us. We love y’all and we can feel your love, and truly, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we are so incredibly blessed.”


	10. Diamonds (The End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Linds, I don’t care if you read it or recite it or say something completely different,” Sonnett says, caressing her cheek, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear you tell me how much you love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sonnshine for reminding me that music was the whole point of this and I needed to continue it in the epilogue.

[My Forever Girl (a playlist)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0YTZfNZRVuu7v1jnFJSIHQ?si=OkhMlri7RuOXPPSVqFj_4Q)

_I love you like a diamond_ _  
And diamonds are forever  
You know it when you find one  
You never let go, ever  
People spend their whole damn life trying to find that shine  
Yeah, I found mine  
I love you like a diamond  
And diamonds are forever  
Forever, ever_

“What?” Emily stops brushing her teeth when she catches Lindsey staring at her from her perch on the bathroom counter.

“You said yes. And now I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” It still seems like a little too remarkable to be reality.

Emily rinses before responding. Stepping in between Lindsey’s legs, she slides her hands up her fiancé’s thighs and under her shorts. “You had me for the rest of our lives already. Didn’t have to propose. This just makes it better.”

“Better how?” Lindsey asks.

“Better because soon, we won’t be living in sin.”

“You didn’t seem to mind living in sin much this morning,” Lindsey teases her, and Emily winks. 

“So I cherry-pick the Bible. What of it?” Emily hops on her back and they make their way to bed.

“Did you think about it, before tonight, I mean, what our wedding would be like? The dresses? The flowers? You know, all that stuff?” Lindsey asks quietly in the darkness, stroking Emily’s cheek.

“Only for like the past six years,” Emily snorts. “It’s all planned in my head already.”

“Seriously?”

Emily lets out a big sigh as she ponders whether or not she should prove that to Lindsey. “Wait here.” She gets up and returns several minutes later with some journals that had been stacked on a shelf, collecting dust. She clicks on the lamp and starts flipping through them until she finds what she was looking for, and Lindsey knows the second she finds it because of the smile that spreads across her face. “Here. 2017.”

It takes Lindsey’s eyes a moment to adjust to what she’s seeing.

“Kelley told me I needed to journal to process everything I was dealing with, with soccer, and religion, and… and you. I wasn’t that good at it, because I’d always start doodling instead of writing. I’m better at that than writing, you know. But then doodling would turn into daydreaming and daydreaming would turn into this.”

_Emily Sonnett-Horan_

_Lindsey Sonnett_

_Lindsey Horan-Sonnett_

_Emily Horan_. 

It’s written over and over and over. In cursive. In perfect print. Inside hearts. Like that was what she finally settled on.

“Sonny…” Lindsey murmurs. 

Emily blushes. It’s so stupid. Such a middle school girl thing to do. She had no business doing it a year out from her college graduation. She has no business showing Lindsey now because it’s embarrassing, and yet... it’s ok. Because it’s Lindsey, and in Lindsey, she’s found the safety to be vulnerable. She clears her throat. “See? No chance I’d say no.”

“You always knew…” Lindsey’s voice trails off in wonderment. It’s not a question. It’s amazing. It hurts Lindsey’s heart a little that she always knew too and resisted those feelings so hard for so long. But it doesn’t take long for that pang of guilt to fade because Emily’s lips are on hers.

“I always _hoped_ is more what it was,” Emily says softly.

“What’s this?” Lindsey asks, pointing to smaller cursive. 

“Nothing.” Sonnett tries to take her journal back.

“Em- ”

Emily squeezes her eyes shut. “Fine.” She hands the journal back.

_Hazel and Henry_

_Hazel Sonnett-Horan_

_Henry Sonnett-Horan_

_Hazel Horan_

_Henry Horan_

“Is this…” Lindsey starts, but she can’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah.”

“You picked out names for our kids,” Lindsey chokes out.

“I mean, it was just stupid daydreaming. Obviously, we can name our kids whatever you want. I was just messing- ”

“I like those names.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I mean it.” Every time she thinks there’s no way that Emily can get any cuter, no way she can adore this woman more than she already does, Emily does something else that tugs at her heartstrings. “What if we have two boys?”

“Henry and… Hudson?”

“I love that. What if we have two girls?”

“Hazel and Harriet?”

“No.” Lindsey says emphatically.

“Why no?”

“Because Tobin will call her Harry and say that we named our child after her.”

Emily laughs, that full belly laugh that Lindsey loves. “She would _totally_ say that, you’re right.”

“Hattie.”

“It’s just short for Harriet.”

“No way Tobin knows that. What if I want three kids? Or four?” Emily’s eyes go wide. “Kidding. We can’t let kids raised by you outnumber us. Because you’re going to think it’s so cute to teach them to be mischievous, and then it’s not gonna be cute at all when we can’t handle them.”

“Excuse me, but our moms decided you were a worse child than me. _I_ , my dear, will raise our children to be perfect angels.”

“The lies.”

“Shoulda saved Luke Combs for our wedding,” Emily says, taking her journals back before Lindsey gets the bright idea to start reading them.

“Oh my god, we’ll get someone else. Who do you want?” Lindsey flops back down on the bed. 

“I don’t know, who can you get? Eric Church. Brett Eldridge. I’ll think about it,” Emily shrugs. “Being engaged to the Ballon d’Or winner has its perks apparently.” Lindsey laughs and shakes her head. “Oooohhh, I know. Darius Rucker.”

“I’ll have my people reach out to his people,” Lindsey smirks.

“Hey, so did you really have a whole speech or something planned out to ask me to marry you?”

“Maybe.”

“Kelley said you read it to her like a dozen times.”

“Kelley needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”

“Baby,” Emily begs, “I want to hear it. I want to know what you were going to say.”

“Can’t I just not and recycle it for our wedding vows? It was hard to write. I don’t know if I can write something separate for that, and you already said yes, so.”

“Please.”

“Em…”

“We can just say traditional vows. You don’t have to write anything else. Promise.”

“God, I hate not being able to say no to you.” Lindsey groans and rolls over, digging around in her drawer for a folded piece of paper. “Here.”

“Baby,” Emily whines, “read it to me.”

“I swear I memorized it,” Lindsey starts, suddenly embarrassed that she fucked that part up so badly tonight. 

“Linds, I don’t care if you read it or say it or say something completely different,” Sonnett says, caressing her cheek, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear you tell me how much you love me.”

“I’m just going to read it. I don’t want to mess up again. But I swear I memorized it.”

“Linds!”

“K. Fine. So I wrote this while you were sleeping. That’s not part of it. It’s…”

“Context?”

“Yeah, context. Ok.”

_Dasani_ ,

_Firstly, when I met you at camp back when we were kids, I never could have dreamed that this would be where I would end up. Sitting next to you in bed watching you sleep is sometimes the best part of my day. You’re so beautiful, so completely at peace, and it makes my heart feels so full. These times are when everything stops spinning and I remember that you are more than my person, you’re my whole world._

_My entire life, when people talked about fate and soulmates, I never got it. I thought those things belonged in the same category as fairytales – they just don’t happen. You don’t meet the love of your life in high school and cross paths with them again and again and then magically fall in love. Except we did. Exactly that. It’s like the universe kept putting you right in front of me til I finally got it._

“Sonny, I don’t want to keep reading this,” Lindsey’s voice cracks as she folds the paper back up. 

Emily sits up cross-legged on the bed, mirroring Lindsey. They end up holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes, just like they used to when they’d finally see each other at national team camp after ages apart. “Just talk to me, baby.”

Lindsey lets out a long, slow breath. “It’s just, there’s something _more_ to us, a lot more to us, that we realize. Or at least than I realized, I don’t know. Maybe you knew the whole time. The universe connected us a long time ago, knew we were it for each other, made sure we kept crossing paths. Like, we met, we got separated by a whole ocean, and then we both ended up in Portland. That never should have happened. Who uses the number one pick in the draft on a defender?”

“Hey now- ”

“And that trade with Alex. That was such a bad deal for Orlando. It never should have happened either. But fate had different plans. That’s the only way to explain it.”

“Shoulda invited Alex tonight then prolly since she’s the only reason we’re together.”

“We never should have ended up in Portland together,” Lindsey continues, and her voice almost sounds sad at how close they could have come to not being each other’s forever.

“But we did.”

“But we did. And I just can’t help but think that yeah, maybe we would have met at National Team camps and stuff, but we wouldn’t have been friends like we were without Portland. And without that kind of friendship, I don’t think we would have fallen in love.”

“I mean, I would have fallen in love, but you would have been engaged to a guy now, probably.”

“Hush,” Lindsey rolls her eyes and pushes her fingers into Sonnett’s thigh, a little roughly. “Our love has been stretched across this country, across oceans, it’s been tangled up and knotted, but it’s never broken.”

“The red string of fate.”

“What? Stop interrupting me.”

“Nothing, sorry. Keep going.”

“Never once have I ever stopped loving you, even when you weren’t talking to me. Never once have I ever even loved you less than the day before. Not even that one time I thought you were breaking up with me through a stupid song and I just about hand a heart attack.”

“Of course you didn’t love me less after that, that was funny.”

“It was not funny!”

“It’s what you get for having absolutely 0.0 patience. Couldn’t even listen to a whole song,” Emily shakes her head.

“I thought I was going to die on the spot. Sonny, I wouldn’t be able to function without you. Well, I’d be able to I guess, but I wouldn’t _want_ to. You have made my life better in ways I couldn’t even imagine. So yes, I could do life without you, but I do want to.”

“I’ve already told you, if you’ll stop being so damn stubborn, I’ll teach you how to use the oven. And the crock pot. And the toaster. Just in case anything ever happens to me.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I’m going to have to die first. It’s already been decided.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s how it works. Maybe you should learn how to- ”

“It’s already decided. Anyway, our love withstood separations and our fucking shitty circumstances, and all the times we got it wrong- ”

“You mean you.”

“Whatever. Yes. All the times I got it wrong,” Lindsey sighs. “No! You know what? We. You almost broke up with me. It’s you, too! All the times _we_ got it wrong. But we’re destined to be together, so none of it mattered. We kept coming back to us. It’s always been us. It’s always been you, Son,” Lindsey leans forward and kisses her slowly, and then with a blush she adds, “So yeah, something like that, but like, without you interrupting, at least in my head you didn’t interrupt. And then I would have asked if you would marry me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Today and tomorrow and on our wedding day. Yes when we decide to have kids and yes to growing old with you. It’s a yes, forever, Linds.”

“Baby, you’re gonna make me cry all over again,” Lindsey grumbles, leaning forward and burying her face in Sonnett’s shoulder to wipe her tears on Sonnett’s shirt.

“What’s secondly?” Sonnett asks softly, rubbing Lindsey’s back.

“Hmmm,” Lindsey mumbles not picking her head up from Sonnett’s shirt.

“You said firstly. You always do this. What’s secondly?”

“Secondly. Thank you.”

“For saying yes?”

“No. Well yes, but no. For never giving up on us. For changing my life. For letting me see the world through your eyes instead because it’s so much more colorful. It’s more fun. You always see the best in everything. For helping me have faith in something bigger than myself. I love you, Emily Sonnett. I love you enough to hyphenate my name as long as you don’t think anyone will ever try to call me Sonny because there’s only one Sonny.”

“What would you have done if I said no?” Emily asks, still too excited to sleep. 

“Kicked you out,” Lindsey yawns.

“Of my own place?”

“Oh absolutely. I wouldn’t have given a fuck. I would have had the locks changed.”

“I don’t think you can do that. Your name’s not on it.”

Lindsey gives her a look, the same look that she uses when she wants to say “I’m the best damn soccer play in the world, who’s going to tell me no?” with just her eyes. “Well, when you marry me and it’s half mine, if you ever think about cheating on me, you’re gonna come home to new locks.”

“If I even _think_ about it, huh?”

“Mmhmm. I’ll know, Sonny. If you even so much as look at another woman, I’ll know.”

“You know you’ve never had anything to worry about and you never will,” Emily says earnestly. 

“I know,” Lindsey pulls Sonnett in closer, until she’s against her chest, hoping she’ll fall asleep because Lindsey is exhausted, finally crashing from the high and all the nerves from today. 

“Linds?” Sonnett starts again, stirring her awake when she was almost asleep. “Did you ever listen to our playlist today?”

“No, sweetie, I was too nervous about everything. I’m sorry.” Lindsey reaches and takes the phone off the charger. She knows how much this means to Emily. 

* * *

Music has always tied them together, even before they were together. Before they could find the words to communicate their feelings and their fears. Before they knew how to verbalize their love, they each, separately, found a way to process those feelings through music. Eventually their playlists became the one way they could say how they felt without saying how they felt. Without being too vulnerable. Both slowly became aware that the songs added late at night or in the long hours alone were a message to the other. Neither was aware that sometimes down the street, and sometimes on the other side of the country, that in all the missing and hurting, they were both listening to music that reminded them of a certain blonde someone who had taken up residence inside an aching heart.

This back and forth dance without words that they did lasted far too long, but now, Lindsey sees it as a musical scrapbook of the early years of their love before it became official. She can trace the way they tried to navigate their friendship and hide their feelings. She can pinpoint the times they missed each other so bad it hurt, and the times they hurt each other. She can go back and find the exact day she knew she was in love with Emily, or her subconscious did, at least. She can trace their entire history through their music selection. 

And thanks to Sonnett, the present, too. Their forever. The morning after Emily finally – finally – kissed her for real, Lindsey opened her Spotify to a new playlist, just for them. There was only one song on it then, added the night they finally figured things out. It’s grown since. Sonnett’s kept up with it, adding a song every month on the 16th, her small way of acknowledging their special day. Today. Well, yesterday, technically, because it’s late now. She’s never missed one. It’s now hours of love songs that Emily’s dedicated to her. Sometimes, Lindsey adds a song when something really speaks to her, but mainly, she just lets Emily woo her through music. Besides, Emily’s always had superior taste in music, though Lindsey will never say it aloud, and she’ll never stop complaining about the incessant country music. Sometimes, Lindsey feels like adding songs to it will mess up their perfect playlist. And really, there’s not a lot of need to in her mind anymore, not when she’s no longer afraid of speaking her feelings aloud, no longer afraid of rejection, no longer needing to use some coded language. It’s so full of love songs now that Lindsey wonders how they’ll ever pick just one to dance to at their wedding. Then again, Emily probably has something not even on the list already in mind. 

* * *

“Can I now?” Lindsey asks, and Emily nods in the dark against her. “You added two songs,” Lindsey murmurs almost to herself. Emily’s never added two songs at once; she’s too selective.

“Just in case,” Emily says back, without further explanation, as Lindsey presses play.

After a few minutes of listening to the songs in the dark, Lindsey sits back up. “Em these are both about…” her voice trails off.

“Yeah,” Emily looks up at her as she reaches over to play with her fingers.

“Did you know? How did you know? Did Kelley tell you? Did you find the ring?” Lindsey’s voice rises in panic.

“No baby.”

“Then why?”

“Because I love you?” Emily offers, but she knows that’s not really a good enough explanation. “Because, um, I was kind of waiting all day for you to check our playlist like you always do so I could ask you a question.”

“Em…”

“But then you didn’t say anything and I didn’t know if you didn’t get the hint or if you got it and just were like yeah, no, or if you were just too distracted to listen.”

“You were going to…”

“Yeah,” Emily bites her lip and nods. “Yeah. Today. Kelley knew. Rose, too. They’re good friends, huh? Keeping this from us. But um, turns out I didn’t have to ask.”

“You were going to propose to me!” Lindsey screeches. 

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t going to be all elaborate. I didn’t have anything planned to say, but I’m pretty good off the cuff, I think. I didn’t have a fancy dinner or a rooftop or a damn country singer or all our friends and family or any of that. I was just gonna ask you. And now that seems… totally lame.” Emily’s voice fades as the realization sinks in. “So not good enough for you.”

“Baby, it would have been perfect just because it’s you and it’s what I wanted. I wouldn’t have needed any of that. Oh my God, Em did you get me a ring?”

“Well yeah, I’m not an idiot, I’m just not into planning.”

“Let me see it!”

“No. I- it’s not- I need to- I need to do better.”

“Emily Sonnet! I don’t care how small that diamond is. Lemme see!”

Emily goes to her closet and returns with a small red box she had hidden in the toe of a shoe. She stops at the edge of the bed, and beckons Lindsey to her before dropping down on one knee. “You are exquisite and captivating and charming, and so far out of my league, and yet, you chose me. I don’t know if every day I’ll be everything you want, but I can promise you security. You’ll never have to worry about where my heart is, and you’ll never have to worry about yours because I’ll always keep it safe. I promise I’ll keep you young. On days you don’t even feel like smiling, I’ll find a way to make you laugh because your laughter is the best sound I’ve ever heard. I promise I’ll always be your number one supporter in whatever it is you want out of life. I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go. And most of all, I can promise you boundless love. So, not that you really have a choice anymore, but will you marry me, too, Linessi?” Emily asks, opening the box. Inside is a ruby ring, surrounded by diamonds. “I…um… red’s your favorite color,” Emily says hoarsely, “and you’re not exactly the most traditional person, so I thought maybe- ”

“It’s beautiful.” Lindsey is breathless as Emily slides the ring on her finger. “Baby, yes. God, yes! Forever,” Lindsey says through tears, pulling Emily against her chest. “Em, I swear, I’m not going to have any tears left to cry, and it’s not even our wedding. What am I going to do that day? Just cry all day? Cry through the ceremony?”

“Probably.” Emily grins, that perfect closed lip Sonny grin complete with crinkled eyes, as she places a kiss on Lindsey’s nose. “Cause you love me that much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a Spotify playlist, I'll make a Spotify playlist. And if I make a Spotify playlist, I'll probably be tempted to write one-shots based on whatever was going on in their lives when the song was added to their playlist.
> 
> Also, sorry again that this ended not as a 5+1, but I really should have known because everything is longer than I intend for it to be, always.


End file.
